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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234667">Favorite Record</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixel/pseuds/vulpixel'>vulpixel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Use, F/F, modern in that it takes place in the 1990s and not the 1390s</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:27:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixel/pseuds/vulpixel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Constance is a very worn out college student who happens to become a regular at a certain record store where Hapi works.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>been working on this one for much too long its about time i post it huh</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Constance knows she is not supposed to be in there. She has a project due for one class, and a test for another she still has not studied for due to piles upon piles of homework for a third class. The work never ends, but the tempting sign flashing “RECORDS” catches her eye as she walks home from the library that Sunday afternoon. The record store stands before her, an oasis in the desert. Constance stares in the window, mouth watering with desire like an old man buying his first boat. She longs for the sea, and the water is right at her feet lapping at her ankles. It’s much too tempting. She cannot possibly pass this by, but she needs time to study. Every second of free time is precious; she has none to waste. However, she would not be in there for long. Just a peek, she promises herself. It won’t take long.</p>
<p>A bell rings as she opens the door. The first thing that catches her attention is the nostalgic smell of dust. It takes her back to a simpler time when she would listen to records with her mother. The place is old and worn, but in a good way. It is as if she entered into another world, a much calmer one. Soft music plays over speakers spread around the store. The dim lights make her feel warm inside, as if she is at home by the fireplace. No one else is there except for the woman working behind the counter. Working is a bit of an exaggeration. She leans back in her chair with her headphones on, staring at a magazine with a sexy model on the cover. She licks her lips and turns the page, paying no attention to Constance.</p>
<p>	The large music collection is more than enough to entertain her. She runs her fingers through a box of old blues records. She finds artists she never knew existed along with some old favorites. The deeper she dives, the more she discovers. Each box is marked with a different genre, arranged in a haphazard mess. The place could use a good cleaning, but the eclectic selection makes it worth her while. She has to listen to it all. And she does. Not one record can be left unturned. It is not until the sun is setting, that she realizes how much time has passed.</p>
<p>	“Hey, you. Blondie.” A curt voice catches her attention.</p>
<p>Constance snaps back into reality to see a hand waving in front of her face. A woman stares down at her. Her red hair hangs over her shoulder, partially covering her face. Dark eyes peer at her. She looks concerned, less about Constance and more about what she would be having for dinner later. She tilts her head at her, waiting for an answer.</p>
<p>“Hello.” Constance finally manages to speak. “Do you need something from me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, actually. You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” the woman replies, “and I hate to be that guy, but I wanna go home, so please leave.”</p>
<p>“Oh. <i>Oh</i>. I am so sorry,” Constance apologizes quickly, standing up off the ground and brushing herself off. Any serenity she was experiencing before is now replaced with a harsh anxiety.</p>
<p>“No need to apologize,” the woman says through a yawn. She straightens her back and stretches. “I just wanna close up is all, and I don’t want to lock you in. Also, the place is haunted. I don’t wanna leave you to leave you to fend for yourself against the ghosts.”</p>
<p>“Ghosts?” Constance gulps. She plays with the hairband on her wrist.</p>
<p>“Yeah. They get really angry if anyone’s in the store past ten o’clock. I think that’s when they like to come out, so they want the place to themselves.”</p>
<p>“How angry do they get? Have you seen them?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’ve seen them alright.” The other woman nods. “They got me once when I made the mistake of staying late. I learned to stay in my lane since then.”</p>
<p>“They got you? What happened?” Constance leans in. She needs to hear the whole story.</p>
<p>The woman rolls up the sleeve of her flannel to reveal a large bruise. “You see this?”</p>
<p>Constance’s eyes go wide with shock. She gasps, “Did the ghost do that?”</p>
<p>“I stayed late cleaning up the store. I felt a cold chill, heard something fall, and next I knew, I was on the floor unconscious. Woke up with this.”</p>
<p>“What time is it now?”</p>
<p>“9:59.”</p>
<p>Constance panics. Her heart races. “We should be haste and leave before anything happens to us.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, a CD falls from its shelf. It crashes to the ground with a loud noise. Constance jumps out of her skin. She squeals, “Let’s leave. Now.”</p>
<p>The other woman laughs to herself and ushers Constance out of the building, seeming oddly calm the entire time.</p>
<p>“You can always come back tomorrow,” the woman says, turning the key in the lock, “I don’t have much else to do, so my hours are long. I’ll make sure to take good care of you.” She punctuates her statement with a wink. Constance finds herself confused by the other woman’s intentions.</p>
<p>“I’ll be sure to come back.” She smiles politely.</p>
<p>“Promise?”</p>
<p>“I promise.” She throws her backpack over her shoulder and hurries out into the night.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>	The next day is brutal for Constance. She stayed up late finishing her project she put off, leading to a short and restless sleep. Her alarm wakes her up with a punch to the face. It rings through her ears until she finally shuts it off. The clock nearly falls off her nightstand from the force of her hit. Four hours of sleep is not nearly enough, especially with a full day of classes ahead. Which sadist thought morning classes were a good idea? It was her. She was the one who signed herself up for morning classes.</p>
<p>Constance grumbles, not wanting to get up and start the day. With a heavy sigh, she stares up at the ceiling contemplating life. Her eyes burn, and her eyelids are heavy. She can hardly keep herself awake. Is life worth waking up at 5am every day? She can barely handle waking up before noon on the weekends.</p>
<p>Rain patters against the window. The sun is barely peeking into the room. It is still too early for the sun to be up, too early for any sane person to start the school day. But of course, this is the life she chose for herself.</p>
<p>The room is dark and drowsy except for her alarm clock blinking red with the time, a painful reminder of how inhumanly early it is to be awake. At least she still has a little time to herself. She takes in the few moments of peace she has left before the chaos of her classes.</p>
<p>	<i>‘I could skip class…. No. Skipping is bad. You did all that work for a reason. Your father won’t help pay the bills if you fail. Go to class.’</i></p>
<p>	Constance scolds herself for wanting to skip class while attempting to stand up. The blankets pull her back like a black hole. She wants nothing more than to dive back into bed and slip into a coma. Just one more hour of sleep would be heavenly, but she persists against her better judgement. Finally, she frees herself from the bed. She goes through the usual motions of getting ready for the day. To add more kindling to the fire, there is no more coffee in the cupboard. Not that she likes coffee anyway. She drinks it more out of necessity than anything else.</p>
<p>Finally, she drags herself to her first class of the morning, accounting. The drizzle of rain sets her mood for the day. Nothing like an early exam and wet shoes to start the week off right. And to top it off, she has an economics lecture right after. Garfield is right; Mondays are the worst.</p>
<p>“Hey, Constance!” A bubbly voice greets her from behind.</p>
<p>Constance smiles. She would recognize that voice anywhere.</p>
<p>At least she has Mercedes, her best friend since high school and rock to lean on. Constance greets her back, “Hey, Mercie.”</p>
<p>“You’re looking good this morning,” her friend compliments her.</p>
<p>Constance stops a moment to let her catch up to her. They walk side by side to their shared class. “Am I?”</p>
<p>She feels like death.</p>
<p>“Oh absolutely not, but the good friend in me is trying to keep you positive. It’s fine, though. You can’t be expected to look good for an 8am lecture. That’s ridiculous,” Mercedes complains, “I mean, look at me. I barely remembered to put on pants.”</p>
<p>“An 8am lecture is ridiculous in itself,” Constance comments.</p>
<p>“You’re preaching to the choir, girlfriend.”</p>
<p>Classes, as usual, go by torturously slow. Constance is sure she failed her accounting exam. Something about making spreadsheets rubs her the wrong way. No one in their right mind would enjoy making spreadsheets. The clock seems to move backwards as the professor drones on about the quantity theory of money. A drop of drool falls down Constance’s chin as she nearly falls asleep. Her thoughts wander off to something more interesting. Namely, the record store. Constance finds herself craving it now more than ever before. She desperately needs a break.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Finally finished with her school day, Constance walks home with a heavy bag of homework. Each step takes all her energy. Her shoes splash in the puddles in the sidewalk. Already, the dread of another school day fills her. Hell, it is only Monday, and she could barely survive it. There is still a whole week of suffering ahead of her. Hooray. The rain comes down harder, slowly soaking Constance thoroughly. Of course, she forgot her umbrella. She does not mind; it fits the mood perfectly.</p>
<p>Then, that same sign neon flashes in the dark like a beacon of hope. An idea strikes her. The record store is a nice quiet place with very few customers if any, the perfect place to get work done while being surrounded by music. It’s the perfect work environment. Also, the cute woman who works there- Wait, what? No. She quickly shakes that thought away. Homework. <i>Focus</i>. That is why she is heading to the record store. No ulterior motives. Besides, she promised she would come back. She has obligations. Those are obviously important. Constance has morals she lives by. It would be incredulous to make a promise and not keep it. She must keep her vow. She has a reputation to uphold.</p>
<p>It does not take much more convincing to get herself to step inside. The bell rings as she walks in, and immediately, all her worries leave her. She feels the weight off her chest lift. The weight on her back, however, is still extremely apparent. Her textbooks only get heavier as the semester drags on. They’re starting to weigh her down.</p>
<p>Her eyes fall to the main counter. Constance notices the same woman working behind the counter again, this time with a pile of CDs and a notebook. She looks focused, occasionally biting the tip of her pen. However, she is not focused enough to disregard the woman staring at her.</p>
<p>	“Hey! You’re back already! I thought I scared you away,” the woman calls to her, a warm smile on her face. “Is there anything I can help you with?”</p>
<p>	“Oh, uh-” Constance scrambles to find words. Her mind goes blank for a brief moment. “I came back like I promised.”</p>
<p>	“I like a woman who keeps her promises. Maybe I’ll give you a discount for your loyalty. What kind of albums are you looking into? I saw you absorbed in the blues section the other day. Maybe some Taj Mahal or Etta James is in order. Maybe you could liven it up a little with some punk music. Although, Tori Amos seems more your style.”</p>
<p>Constance suddenly feels very rude. “I actually came to study, but I would like to buy some albums too. I would hate to come back just to loiter in your fine establishment.”</p>
<p>“Fine establishment? It’s more akin to a Denny’s back alley than anything else. But studying? Why on earth are you studying?” The woman inquires, setting her notebook aside. She leans in the counter, obviously intrigued by this conversation.</p>
<p>“Yeah, like college studies.”</p>
<p>“Never been. What’s it like?”</p>
<p>“Quite difficult and time consuming.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Not for me.”</p>
<p>“It’s definitely not for anyone,” Constance says, “I don’t judge you or anyone who doesn’t go to college.”</p>
<p>“You better not. I’ll take back my discount if I have to.”</p>
<p>“Please, anything but that.” She feigns discomfort.</p>
<p>The woman laughs. “Alright. You’ve convinced me, but only if you tell me your name.”</p>
<p>“My name?” Constance suddenly draws a blank. “My name is, um, Constance.”</p>
<p>“You had to think about it?”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t exactly expecting a random record store employee to ask me when I’ve only been in here twice.”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah. I think two visits is meaningful enough. And your name is pretty, so I’ll be sure to remember it. Constance, like, uh, constant. Constantly in my life. Constance is a bit of a mouthful, though. It’s too… formal. You sound like some high ranking noble from the Middle Ages,” the woman laughs, “Maybe I could call you Coco. Like Coco Puffs. That cereal is bangin’.”</p>
<p>“You intend to name me after a cereal?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I eat them for breakfast every morning. That way, I’ll associate you with something I care about.”</p>
<p>For some reason. Constance loves it.</p>
<p>“I like it. I will henceforth answer to the name ‘Coco’.” To be fair, she has never had a nickname before. This is a big moment in her life.</p>
<p>The other woman holds her hand out. “Well, Coco, I’m Hapi.”</p>
<p>Constance returns the gesture. “Hapi? Like Happy? Short for Happiness?”</p>
<p>“It’s not, and never call me that again,” Hapi responds firmly.</p>
<p>“Okay, Hapi. I like that name.”</p>
<p>“You better like it. It’s my name.”</p>
<p>Constance snorts. It’s a terrible joke, but hearing it from Hapi is much more enjoyable. “I really have to go study now. I have enough homework to feed a small army.”</p>
<p>“Sounds terrible. Anything I can help with?”</p>
<p>“Are you good at business calculus by chance?” She asks.</p>
<p>Hapi shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I think I’ll stick to cataloguing CDs. Thank you very much. You go do work. I’ll stop being such a distraction.”</p>
<p>“You’re really okay with me studying here?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, of course. That is, if you’re okay with me playing whatever the hell I want. I’d rather have someone loiter in here than be bored all day. Especially if it’s you. Take all the time you need, but I will kick you out once closing time hits. You know the drill.” She waves her hand dismissively.</p>
<p>“Noted. Thank you so much. I truly appreciate this,” Constance says.</p>
<p>“And remember, you’re not allowed to complain about the music.”</p>
<p>Constance finds solace in a solitary corner with a cassette of her favorite blues artist. No blues song can portray the sorrow that comes with doing business calculus. Still, it helps. Surrounded by shelves of music books, Constance gets comfortable with her homework. The cassette clicks into place in her Walkman, and she adjusts her headphones. She presses the heavy play button, and the Walkman springs to life. The music flows through her headphones, a sweet and sorrowful composition. She takes a deep breath to focus herself. A long guitar solo fuels the pen on paper. Before she realizes it, her calculus homework is finished. The cassette halts. She looks at the paper in awe. She did that. She did that without getting distracted or stressing out. She has never felt so relaxed doing schoolwork. She holds up the paper to check again if what she is seeing is real. The paper sits in front of her, completely finished.</p>
<p>As if by some miracle, hours passed in what seemed to be a few minutes. It must be the store. The comfort of the piles of dusty records fuels Constance’s brain. As a reward, Constance chooses her new favorite album to take home.</p>
<p>“How much for this?” Constance sets the cassette in front of Hapi.</p>
<p>Hapi picks up the tape, gives it a half-hearted glance, and sets it back down. “Five bucks.”</p>
<p>Constance scoffs at her. “Five? This is a brand new album.”</p>
<p>“I said what I said.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s too low. I insist you make me pay full price.”</p>
<p>Hapi leans her head in her hand. “You said you’re in college, right? That’s gotta be expensive. If that album makes you happy, you deserve it for a cheap price. Besides, I told you I’d give you a discount.”</p>
<p>“Charge me full price,” Constance insists stubbornly.</p>
<p>“Not happening.” The other woman shakes her head.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she huffs, taking out a ten dollar bill and setting it on the counter. Before Hapi can hand her change, she swipes the album and puts it in her backpack. Hapi eyes her suspiciously.</p>
<p>“You can’t just reverse rob me,” Hapi says with a frown.</p>
<p>“Yes, I can. I’ll do it again.” Constance pulls out another five dollar bill and sets it on the counter.</p>
<p>“Am I a stripper to you? Don’t tempt me. I <i>will</i> start taking my clothes off.”</p>
<p>She turns a bright red. “That was not what I was implying! I was just trying to be nice.”</p>
<p>“I think you secretly want to see me naked. You know, I wasn’t into it before, but I am now.” Hapi leans over the counter and grabs for her purse. “How many singles do you got in there? Throw them at me. I’m wearing a sports bra, but I’ll make it work.”</p>
<p>“Hapi! This is a record store, not a strip club. I will not participate in such uncouth actions.”</p>
<p>The other woman laughs and puts her head in her hands. She gazes at Constance lovingly. “You said ‘uncouth’. I love your funny words.”</p>
<p>“It’s not funny to have an expansive vocabulary!” Constance argues.</p>
<p>“Expansive vocabulary! You are too funny.”</p>
<p>“Stop making fun of how I speak,” she huffs. She crosses her arms.</p>
<p>“I only tease you because I like you.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Like clockwork, Constance shows up right after class. The bell rings, signaling her arrival. The door shuts quietly behind her. Constance makes her way to her study spot in the back. Hapi catches her walking back.</p>
<p>“You just can’t stay away, can you?” She teases her, “This is the third time I’ve seen you this week.”</p>
<p>In all honesty, Constance does feel a magnetic attraction to the record store, but she will never admit it.</p>
<p>“The music is far superior here than anywhere else,” she answers instead.</p>
<p>“Damn right, it is,” Hapi boasts, “I have the best collection in town.”</p>
<p>“Until I buy everything.”</p>
<p>“If you did, then I could go to college too.”</p>
<p>“If you wanna go to college so bad, you can just go in my stead. I’m sure you’ll absolutely love accounting.”</p>
<p>“Eh, I’ll pass. I already pay someone to do that for me.” Hapi leans against the wall. “So what’s your favorite album?”</p>
<p>Constance taps her chin in thought. “My favorite album? Like, just one? That’s a tough question. I didn’t come prepared for this.” She thinks some more. “At the moment, I’d say Kate Bush’s <i>Hounds of Love</i>.”</p>
<p>“Kate Bush?” Hapi nods knowingly. “That explains a lot.”</p>
<p>“What exactly does it explain if I may ask?”</p>
<p>“Your… you.” She gestures to all of Constance. “Kate Bush isn’t exactly normal person listening.”</p>
<p>“Are you calling me weird?” The blonde asks, crossing her arms.</p>
<p>“Was I being too subtle? I can be more obvious. You’re weird.”</p>
<p>“No. Anyone can listen to Kate Bush. It hardly makes me strange.”</p>
<p>“Relax, Coco. I’m just teasing you.” Hapi pokes her shoulder lightly. “I like you and all your quirks.”</p>
<p>“I’m quirky now too?” Constance frowns.</p>
<p>“Were you not aware?”</p>
<p>“I did not come here to be made fun of.”</p>
<p>“C’mon, Coco. It’s a compliment! Besides, I love Kate Bush too. Kinda. <i>Hounds of Love</i> was easily her best work.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you can appreciate true talent.”</p>
<p>“How can I not? She’s hot and has a beautiful voice.”</p>
<p>“That she does. I wish I could come close to her beauty when it comes to singing,” Constance muses.</p>
<p>“You sing?” Hapi asks curiously, “I wanna hear.”</p>
<p>Constance feels a slight blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. “I may enjoy singing, but that does not mean I am good at it. And I certainly can’t sing on command. Especially in front of others.”</p>
<p>“That’s a shame. I bet you have a beautiful voice.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so sure.”</p>
<p>“Nah, I’m pretty sure. A beautiful face means a beautiful voice. It’s science.”</p>
<p>“With that logic, you’d be a good singer too,” Constance shoots back at her.</p>
<p>“I don’t sing for just anyone,” Hapi responds, “But maybe I could make an exception for you. If you’d sing for me. It’s only fair. There’s a karaoke bar not too far from here.”</p>
<p>Constance takes a step backwards. “Now, you’re distracting me. We both have work to be doing right now.”</p>
<p>“Alright. I’ll stop being such a distraction,” Hapi says with a wink, “But keep my offer in mind.”</p>
<p>They part ways, leaving Constance to finish her schoolwork. She settles into her favorite spot surrounded by boxes of records. Her books lay out in front of her untouched. The mountain of homework seems daunting, but for once in her life, Constance is ready for the challenge. She decides to start with her marketing homework. The course requires a creative mind as well as a strong knowledge in statistics. Constance is lacking in both. However, in the comforting environment of the record store, this does not weigh on her. She continues to work dutifully, writing until her pen runs dry.</p>
<p>The music goes quiet, catching Constance’s attention. She looks up as if something is amiss. Nothing seems wrong despite the silence. She looks back to her textbook, deciding it is not important. Quietly, the crackle of a needle on vinyl hits the speakers. A brief moment of silence, and music sparks to life over the speakers once more. It starts with drums fading into a quiet synth melody. The song sounds terribly familiar. Then it hits her.</p>
<p>“She’s playing my album,” Constance whispers to herself. A smile sneaks onto her face. She hugs her knees to her chest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days get colder as September turns into November. The week passes by quietly at the record store. A few customers come in just to browse the selection. Others come in looking for a specific album. Hapi is always happy to deliver. One person buys an entire box of old country albums. Good riddance. Hapi could never get into country, and she can only look at so many Conway Twitty albums until her eyes bleed. Half her new releases disappear within a few days. Another person comes in asking for Hungarian folk music. Hapi has absolutely no idea what he means. The genre turns out to be quite interesting, and she slowly amasses her own collection of it.</p>
<p>Hapi spends her down time tidying up the shop while listening to her favorite albums. As always, the music is a bit too loud, but she prefers it that way. Besides, no one is around to complain about it. With no one else in the store, she indulges herself in her favorite punk album with a name much too vulgar to be read aloud. It thrashes over the speakers, surely giving her hearing damage. The shelves vibrate with the heavy bass resonating through the entire store. Hapi screams along with it, using her broom as a makeshift guitar.</p>
<p>Constance has not come back since last week. Perhaps she is caught up in college activities. Maybe she found another record store to go to. She showed up every day last week; perhaps she has gotten sick of the place. Hapi can’t blame her; she would do the same in her shoes. Still, she walks by the empty corner where Constance likes to sit for hours listening to music and writing in her notebook. Just as before, the woman is not there. The spot remains empty throughout the day. Hapi cannot help but miss her new friend.</p>
<p>She finds herself subconsciously checking for Constance, her eyes drifting to the corner every few moments as she works. Every closing, she double checks to make sure Constance did not magically sneak in. It seems like something she would do, but it is mostly just wishful thinking. Hapi tries not to think about her too much. She has gotten used to her showing up every day with a tired smile on her face and a backpack full of homework. Her odd quirks brought a fun energy into the store. Without her, the store feels terribly dull like a low budget daytime sitcom except with a better soundtrack. As annoying as Constance can be, Hapi has to admit she does find her quirkiness endearing.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Sunday comes faster than Constance wants. She sleeps in for the first time in what feels like years. If this is what heaven feels like, she can die happy. Finally she rolls out of bed once the sun is too bright to go back to sleep. The sun shines through the window directly into her eyes. She needs to fix the blinds. More so, her landlord needs to let her do so but never will. Same with the leak in the sink. The problems never end. She yawns and rubs the drowsiness out of her eyes. The pure euphoria of sleeping in quickly fades away, settling into something much worse: the dread of responsibility. The clock flashes 1:30. Only a college student can sleep for twelve hours straight. Today could be a lazy day. She would kill for a lazy day. Hell, she deserves a day of single leisure before another week of the legal torture also known as college. But no. Even during her free time, her work is never truly done. There is no food in the fridge, the toilet needs cleaning, and her dirty laundry sits in a daunting pile by her bedroom door. Again, the leaky sink. An unfinished pile of homework sits on her desk. Constance hates it. She wants to tear her hair out.</p>
<p>Begrudgingly, she drags herself to the bathroom to get ready for the day. If she is going into public, she has to look presentable. Tired eyes stare at her in the mirror. She quickly covers it up with concealer. Maybe if she dresses up, she can pretend her life has some semblance. Wearing actual clothes would be a nice change from her usual selection of sweatshirts and jeans. As much as she prefers other clothes, it is rare she has time for anything more elaborate. However, today will be different.</p>
<p>For a brief moment, she indulges herself with the idea of stopping at the record store. It has been quite a while since her last visit, and she misses the place dearly. After a week of tests and torture, she deserves a treat. Her Walkman lies on her desk just begging for new music to play. That’s a good enough excuse for her. How could she say no to her poor Walkman? She stuffs it into her purse before she leaves.</p>
<p>The bell rings as Constance steps into the familiar store. The place is just how she left it. The boards creak under her feet. Dust itches at her nose. She realizes just how much she missed the place. Everything is exactly as it was before except for one thing missing. There is a distinct lack of Hapi at her desk. Constance frowns. She navigates through the cramped aisles looking for her getting, distracted by the music selection as she goes.</p>
<p>Finally, she finds the woman absorbed in work. Constance watches for a moment as she lifts a box over her head and places it on top of a shelf, struggling a bit because of her height. Her sleeveless top does wonders for her arms. Constance’s gaze immediately falls lower as Hapi’s top rides up her back slightly. A glimpse of a tattoo peeks out, but Constance cannot quite identify it. She wonders if Hapi works out or if those muscles are from lifting boxes alone. Either way, Constance is profoundly impressed by this woman’s body. From a purely artistic standpoint, of course. In short, her body is bangin’. As Hapi turns to grab another box, she notices Constance staring. A smile creeps onto her face.</p>
<p>“It’s you!” Hapi exclaims when they make eye contact. She seems genuinely surprised by the other woman’s presence.</p>
<p>“It’s me!” Constance answers back with equal enthusiasm.</p>
<p>“Long time no see,” Hapi greets her with a friendly smile, “You look nice today. I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything other than a sweatshirt before. I’m glad to see you branching out.”</p>
<p>“Ah, thank you. I finally made the time to dress properly for once.” Constance plays with her hair to hide a slight blush. She is not used to all the attention. Perhaps that is what keeps her coming back.</p>
<p>“It’s a good look on you.” Hapi scratches her chin, closely examining the blonde. “Perhaps you could shorten the skirt next time.”</p>
<p>“Maybe not that.”</p>
<p>“Why not? You’d look cute.”</p>
<p>“It’s much too cold out for that,” Constance reasons.</p>
<p>“Next time, then.” Hapi waves it off. “Either way, I’m glad you’re here.”</p>
<p>“Sorry it’s been so long. It’s been a stressful week with all my classes. I haven’t had time for anything. Let alone the things I actually enjoy.”</p>
<p>Hapi stops her there. “You don’t need to apologize. No one’s forcing you to come back. Although, I do enjoy when you visit. I’ve been saving all the Kate Bush albums for you. And I mean all of them.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Especially when you bribe me with such good music.”</p>
<p>“Like I’d want to get rid of you, you weirdo.”</p>
<p>“I’m not weird.”</p>
<p>“Okay, Kate Bush fan.”</p>
<p>“You complain now, but you won’t later when I buy all her albums from you.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.” Hapi shrugs. “Whatever pays the bills.”</p>
<p>Constance indulges herself with a box of dusty records; Hapi probably bought the box at a garage sale. The wear shows from years of use. Most of the selection is oldies with some disco albums mixed in, all very light music for a happy mood or a dance party. There is also an odd selection of Hungarian folk music Constance never thought Hapi would be into. It is an unusual choice, but Constance is intrigued nonetheless.</p>
<p>It is rare Constance listens to records anymore. She has a small stereo set up in her apartment, but her neighbors are not very fond of loud music. Or any noise for that matter. Regardless, she listens to her albums while doing chores around her apartment. She flips over an ABBA album, and it takes her back. Her mother always listened to ABBA or the Bee Gees when she was in a good mood. The happy beats and cheerful melodies made for fun dance parties in the living room after a stressful day of school. The music leaves her with a fuzzy feeling in her chest. Constance pulls out the albums and takes them to the counter.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the music changes. Loud rock music starts blasting over the speakers, a harsh contrast to the oldies playing before. She catches Hapi at the counter playing with her stereo system. She sways her hips to the upbeat music. Constance finds herself entranced.</p>
<p>“You’re in a good mood,” she muses.</p>
<p>“Coco! Just the girl I was looking for,” Hapi says, a hint of excitement in her voice, “I have a question for you.”</p>
<p>That never means anything good.</p>
<p>“Oh, god. What is it?” Constance dares ask, more curious than anything.</p>
<p>“Would you consider us friends?”</p>
<p>Friendship is something Constance never considered when it came to Hapi. Despite all the teasing and conversations, Constance still is not sure. Were they friends? Or does their relationship not extend beyond customer and employee? They’ve known each other for months at this point, but she barely knows anything about the other woman besides her name and her music taste. Still, part of her would love to get to know Hapi better. Maybe this is her chance.</p>
<p>“I would say so,” she responds tentatively, “Why do you ask?”</p>
<p>“Because I have a surprise for you in the back.” Hapi leans on the counter and winks at her. “It’s guaranteed to put you in a great mood, and exactly what you need after a look week of hard work and no play. You wanna join me?”</p>
<p>“Should I be worried?”</p>
<p>“What? No!” She laughs, “It’s really fun!”</p>
<p>“I probably shouldn’t,” Constance sighs. Her stomach growls at her. “I have chores to do. I should keep my visit brief.”</p>
<p>“Chores?” Hapi retorts, “Screw chores. You can do them later! Come have fun with me. You deserve a break. I’ve seen how hard you work. Give yourself some slack.”</p>
<p>If only that were possible, but Hapi has a point. Constance so desperately needs a break. She spent the last week finishing projects, running around campus, and working at the bookstore. She has calices on her hands from writing so many essays. Her back aches from carrying a mountain of textbooks to and from her classes, and her wrists will never forgive her for the torture she has put them through. She has not talked to her friends in days. The last thing she needs is more work.</p>
<p>“Constance?” Hapi waves a hand in front of her face. “You spaced out there.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.” Constance snaps out of it.</p>
<p>“If you were really sorry, you would join me.” Hapi waggles her eyebrows as if that would help. “You know you want to.”</p>
<p>“Is this the peer pressure my father warned me about in high school?”</p>
<p>“It absolutely is. C’mon. Just do it. You know you want to.”</p>
<p>“You can’t push me.” Constance stands strong. She stomps her foot on the floor decisively.</p>
<p>“Yes, I can.” Her friend playfully shoves her shoulder. Her laugh is infectious. “What if I said please?”</p>
<p>“Okay, fine.” Constance easily falters. She feigns annoyance and rolls her eyes at her.</p>
<p>“That’s the spirit!” Hapi cheers, “And for your troubles, I’ll give you the albums for free.”</p>
<p>“You have to stop doing that,” Constance scolds her, “You run a business not a charity.”</p>
<p>“Then, sue me.” Her friend sticks her tongue out at her childishly.</p>
<p>“I might.”</p>
<p>“I wanna see you try.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>After a small disagreement, Hapi closes down the store and takes Constance into the back. When Hapi is not looking, she pays for her albums. A sly smile creeps on her face as she slips a few bills next to the register. That’ll show her. Hapi comes back and takes Constance by the hand, leading her to the back. Her hand are warm. Constance tries not to think about it too much.</p>
<p>Slowly, Hapi opens the door to a secret office. Office is the wrong word. It looks more like a glorified bedroom. The room is decked out with various band posters and other trinkets Hapi has collected over the years. Constance spots a stuffed dog propped up carefully on her desk. Cute. It feels cozy, with a large couch in the corner and a personal stereo set up next to it. Cases of records litter the floor; Constance guesses it is her personal collection. One small lamp lights the room, casting a dim light over everything. The blinds keep the setting sun out. A few scented candles sit on the coffee table already lit, but failing to cover a skunky smell permeating the room. Next to them, a strange vase. The room is well lived in. Constance can tell Hapi has spent many days in this room listening to music and god knows what else. She likes it. It feels homey.</p>
<p>“This is what you wanted to show me?” She wonders aloud.</p>
<p>“Nope,” Hapi replies, shaking her head.</p>
<p>She throws her shoes off and hops over to the stereo. She shuffles through a few CDs before deciding on her favorites. Constance follows suit, setting her shoes carefully next to the door. The carpet feels soft on her feet. She relishes the feeling.</p>
<p>“Go ahead and get comfortable,” Hapi says, playing with the controls on her receiver. The radio starts playing over the speakers. The music plays quietly in the background while she picks out an album to play.</p>
<p>Constance takes the invitation and sits down on the couch near Hapi. She watches as the other woman tinkers with the stereo, idly kicking her legs as she waits.</p>
<p>“What is this place?” Constance questions her curiously, “Do you live here?”</p>
<p>“I wish. This place is nicer than my apartment,” Hapi responds, “This is my technically my office. I do paperwork sometimes.”</p>
<p>She finally decides on a volume and lets the music play. That familiar crackle of vinyl plays over the speakers before the music begins. The song is something different from what Hapi normally listens to. Maybe she was saving it for a special occasion. Either way, Constance enjoys the tune.</p>
<p>“Is this Queen?” Constance asks, recognizing the prominent vocals.	</p>
<p>“Yes,” Hapi answers enthusiastically, “You shared your favorite album. Now, it’s my turn to show you mine.”</p>
<p>“I would’ve thought your favorite album would be something a bit harder. With more guitars and screaming.”</p>
<p>“Queen goes hard. Don’t be mistaken. And I’m allowed to listen to things other than punk every once in a while, you know.”</p>
<p>“I know! I just figured since you didn’t like Kate Bush you might not enjoy Queen either.”</p>
<p>“I have a good taste for the classics,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>She gives the stereo a loving tap before getting up. She shuffles through her desk drawers before pulling out something small and sticking it in her pocket. Constance stares at the candles on the table in front of her. A small cloud of smoke emits from it, sending a slight vanilla scent into the air. Hapi continues to walk around the room, setting the mood for her big reveal. She tosses the stray clothes into a pile and kicks them into a corner. Then, she joins Constance on the couch, not bothering to put any space between them. Their legs touch by accident, and Constance subconsciously pulls away. Hapi seems to move closer, and again, their legs touch. Constance decides not to fight it.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” The blonde asks, trying to make any sense of the situation.</p>
<p>“You really don’t know what I’m doing?” Hapi replies.</p>
<p>Constance looks at her. The other woman hunches over the small vase. A pool of water sits at the bottom, murky and black. Constance hopes that Hapi hasn’t put any flowers in it. They would surely be dead within the week. However, instead of flowers, Hapi puts something else in it. Something green. Constance squints, trying to make it out. She has no idea.</p>
<p>“Seriously, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>Hapi sighs, “Aren’t you in college? Even twelve year olds know what weed is nowadays. C’mon.”</p>
<p>“You’re giving me weed?” Constance gasps, absolutely appalled by the notion.</p>
<p>“Yeah, dude. It’s the perfect way to unwind. I’m high right now.”</p>
<p>“You are under the influence of drugs right this very moment as we are speaking?”</p>
<p>“I’m too high to think about your big words, Blondie. Talk a little slower for me.”</p>
<p>“Hapi, I cannot believe you.”</p>
<p>“Coco.” Hapi places a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone and their mom smokes weed. You are an adult woman. It’s your duty in life to try weed at least once. Forget what Tony the Tiger tells you to do. Do what Hapi tells you to do. I mean me/ I’m Hapi.”</p>
<p>“You mean the DARE lion?”</p>
<p>“Same thing.” She waves it off.</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Constance groans, not sure what to do with herself, “Are you really gonna make me smoke weed with you?”</p>
<p>“Well, you don’t have to, but I would love some help getting through this bong. It’ll mellow you right out.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“What part of that sentence confused you? Was it mellow? You know, I can use big words too, Coco.”</p>
<p>“The word ‘bong’ confused me,” Constance says.</p>
<p>“It’s this.” Hapi holds up the strange vase filled with the terrifying water. “You use this to smoke weed. Here, I’ll even demonstrate.”</p>
<p>“You do not need to-“</p>
<p>It’s much too late. Hapi flicks her lighter, and the water starts to bubble. She breathes in, taking in a cloud of smoke. Then, a short pause before she lets the smoke out. The cloud fills the room, attacking Constance’s nose. The skunky smell lingers in the air. Her eyes start to water and she coughs.</p>
<p>“Damn. You’ve really never done this before.” Hapi slides the bong in front of her. “There’s a first time for everything.”</p>
<p>Now, the moment of truth. Constance knows this is a bad idea, but a small voice in her head tells her otherwise. It could be fun. And more importantly, she would be doing it with Hapi.</p>
<p>“You said this will relax me?” She asks.</p>
<p>Her friend nods. “All your worries will disappear.”</p>
<p>Admittedly, despite her better judgement, the offer is quite tempting. Constance <i>does</i> need a break. Hapi is right about that. Constance looks down at the bong. Tentatively, she takes it into her hands. Hapi leans in excitedly, eyes aglow with pure joy.</p>
<p>“I believe in you,” she encourages her.</p>
<p>Constance takes a deep breath, and puts the bong to her lips. At this moment, she realizes that she has no clue how to work the contraption. Sure, there’s smoke, but there’s so many other steps for acquiring it. What happens after? Constance doesn’t have time for all these questions.</p>
<p>“Do I breathe in or out?” She wonders aloud.</p>
<p>Hapi snorts. “Inward. Then, hold it in a little bit before breathing it out.”</p>
<p>“Right.” That clarifies everything. Constance still has no idea what to do, but she may as well try. Again, she brings the bong to her lips, mimicking what she saw the other woman do. Her hands shake with uncertainty. She closes her eyes and breathes in. The smoke enters her mouth, burning her. The terrible taste coats her tongue. Immediately, Constance coughs. The violent hacking nearly leaves her on the floor. She can barely breathe.</p>
<p>“Okay, I did it,” she says, pushing the bong as far away from her as possible, “You tainted me. Are you satisfied?”</p>
<p>“Me? Never. Let’s try that again.” Hapi grins.</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Practice makes perfect.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Constance repeats herself.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Hapi insists.</p>
<p>Constance sighs and once again brings the bong to her lips once more. She takes a longer hit than intended. She waits a moment. Nothing happens. “I don’t feel anything.”</p>
<p>“Give it a moment.” Hapi reaches over to take the bong from her.</p>
<p>Constance appeases her for a moment, only to find she is still the same as before.</p>
<p>“It’s not-“</p>
<p>Suddenly, the room feels different. The music intensifies. It resonates through her whole body in the most satisfying way. The lights dim on their own, and her vision gets fuzzy. Her body seems to move in slow motion. She finds she has no control over it.</p>
<p>“The gravity just got so much stronger in here. I believe I am falling,” she says, not sure how to feel about the whole ordeal. Her words come out in a garbled mess. Slowly, her body tips over.</p>
<p>“Where?” Hapi asks.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Do you think I have any say over the matter?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.” She slides closer to the woman. Constance slowly crashes into her. The impact is underwhelming. As soon as she hits Hapi, she melts into her. A weight falls upon her. Her head grows heavy.</p>
<p>“Hapi, what’s happening to me? I can’t get up.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re just tired, Coco.”</p>
<p>“Constance Von Nuvelle does not get…” She lets out a lengthy yawn. “Tired. It is simply not in my nature.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re finally relaxing,” says Hapi.</p>
<p>Is this what relaxing feels like? Constance hasn’t experienced this in ages. Her eyelids droop. A wave of serenity washes over her. “This is kind of nice, actually.”</p>
<p>“I told you.”</p>
<p>Constance falls asleep before her friend can gloat any more.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Constance wakes up from her drugged daze in a dark room on Hapi’s surprisingly comfortable couch. With the effects of the drug gone, all that is left is exhaustion and a slight headache. Her head spins, yelling at her to go back to sleep. She struggles to get up, too lazy to bother with life. Her halfhearted attempt fails quickly. She sinks back into the soft cushions. Hapi lies next to her fast asleep. Her chest rises and falls in a soothing rhythm.</p>
<p>Constance lies awake on the couch trying to sort through her thoughts. One nags at the back of her head, but it is too fuzzy to decipher. She strains herself trying to remember. Her mind draws a blank. She knows she is missing something. But what? She doesn’t even know what time it is. Hell, she doesn’t even know what day it is.</p>
<p>In a fit of frustration, she moves to get up again. Only this time, Hapi shifts to bring an arm around the woman. It wraps around her abdomen and pulls her close, effectively trapping her. Constance sinks back in defeat. She lies in the sleeping woman’s arms trying to think of what to do next. She stares into the inky darkness of the room. Then, the realization hits her.</p>
<p>“I’m missing class!” She exclaims aloud. Somehow, Hapi does not stir from the loud outburst. Instead, she grips onto Constance tighter. Curse her strong arms. Constance cannot escape even if she wanted to.</p>
<p>“Hapi, let me go!” She struggles uselessly against her, but it is no use. Hapi is too strong. She buries her face in blonde hair. Constance can feel her nuzzling the back of her neck. It sends a wave of shock down her spine. She blushes, mind going into the gutter. She can feel Hapi’s breath on the back of her neck. The sensation is overwhelming.</p>
<p>“Go back to sleep,” Hapi mumbles against her, not seeming awake herself.</p>
<p>Constance does not have much of a choice. She is much too polite to break free from Hapi’s iron grasp. She cannot move, so she might as well take advantage of this quiet moment. Sleeping is important, anyway. Hapi agrees with a quiet snore. She grabs Constance tighter. The woman squirms in her grasp to get comfortable. Her eyes force shut, and she drifts back off to sleep. </p>
<p>When she wakes again, there is a distinct lack of presence beside her. A chill fills her body. She looks up to see Hapi moving around the room. Constance watches quietly as she digs through her pile of clothes, choosing a black tank top and a baggy sweatshirt to go over it. Hapi does not bother hiding herself as she tugs off her shirt, making Constance scream internally. She covers her mouth just in case any sounds choose to escape. Hapi keeps the pants she was wearing the night before, too lazy to take them off. She looks down, satisfied with how she looks.</p>
<p>“Were you watching me change?” Hapi teases, noticing her gaze.</p>
<p>Constance face flushes deeply. She has been caught red handed.</p>
<p>“I would never,” she scoffs. Her burning cheeks tell a different story.</p>
<p>“Are you sure about that?” Hapi raises an eyebrow at her.</p>
<p>Constance starts playing with her hair. “I am absolutely sure.”</p>
<p>“You’re a bad liar.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Constance grumbles at her.</p>
<p>“I don’t blame you,” Hapi reasons, subtly flexing her arms, “I would be looking too, if I were you.”</p>
<p>Constance opens her mouth to argue back, but a loud yawn interrupts her. Hapi laughs. She grabs a bottle of water from her desk and takes a large drink. She brings the bottle to Constance. The woman stares at it skeptically.</p>
<p>“Drink this,” Hapi demands, holding out the bottle to her.</p>
<p>Constance reaches out to grab the bottle. She looks at it suspiciously, taking a small sip before chugging the rest of the bottle safely. The water cleanses her, waking her up a bit, but not enough.</p>
<p>“Oh thank god this is just water,” she sighs with relief.</p>
<p>“Constance, again, I’m not trying to kill you. Oh my god.”</p>
<p>“Good because I’m too sleepy to do anything about it.”</p>
<p>Hapi pets her hair. “Get up. Let’s go get breakfast. At uh, noon.”</p>
<p>“It’s noon?” Suddenly, Constance is fully awake.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Time passes sometimes.”</p>
<p>“I missed all my morning classes!”</p>
<p>“You are in no state to go to class, Blondie. Come get breakfast with me. You need to take care of yourself.”</p>
<p>“I can’t. I have class! If I hurry, I can make it in time for my one o’clock lecture.”</p>
<p>“If you don’t come to breakfast with me, I’m gonna carry you there myself.” Hapi holds her hand out. “Don’t make me.”</p>
<p>Part of Constance wants to see that happen. The other half of her is stubborn. “I’m making you.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure? It’s not gonna be pretty.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“Alright, but you asked for it.” Hapi bends down and scoops her arms under Constance. The woman squeals as Hapi lifts her into the air effortlessly. Hapi flops her over her shoulder, and her legs dangle awkwardly in the air. Her skirt sticks half up in the air.</p>
<p>“Put me down at once!” Constance huffs, immediately regretting her decision.</p>
<p>“I told you it wasn’t gonna be pretty.”</p>
<p>“I am well aware of that, but I would like to go out without my underwear on display for all of Philly to see.”</p>
<p>“Aw, really? I thought you would.”</p>
<p>“Hapi, I would like you to know I’m a modest woman.”</p>
<p>“You dress like a nun,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>“That wasn’t a compliment. It wouldn’t kill you to show some skin every once in a while. Especially since the weather is still moderately warm outside. Do it for me. Won’t you, babe?”</p>
<p>Constance turns a bright red at the use of a pet name. She bites her lip and tires desperately to ignore it.</p>
<p>“Why do you want to see my skin so bad?” She asks, words laced with suspicion.</p>
<p>“I have my reasons.” Hapi sets her back down. Constance pats down her skirt and brushes off any remnants from last night in a futile attempt to neaten herself up. She thanks god she doesn’t live with her father anymore. Returning home like this would be a nightmare given how she looks. The room is still dark; the heavy curtains keep any sunlight from peeking in. The only light in the room is a small lamp on the desk. She strains to see in the dim light, but she guesses she looks at least somewhat decent. Most importantly, her underwear is now hidden.</p>
<p>Finally, she steps out into the record store, haphazardly ready for the day. A cold breeze brushes past her, making her shiver. The morning sun has yet to warm the air.</p>
<p>“It’s cold,” she whines, hugging herself.</p>
<p>“You didn’t bring a jacket?” Hapi asks.</p>
<p>“Not a warm one. I wasn’t exactly expecting to spend the night.”</p>
<p>“Right. I’ll see what I got.”</p>
<p>Hapi sighs, turning around to go back into the room. She emerges moments later with a black bomber jacket. Constance takes it graciously. She slips it on over her outfit, enjoying how big it is. The sleeves fall over her hands. She slaps the sleeves on Hapi’s shoulder playfully. Hapi rolls her eyes, trying and failing to hide a smile.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>The sun starts to set by the time Constance returns home. She lugs two armfuls of groceries up the stairs. Surprisingly, most of the lights are on in her apartment. Of course, she is forgetful as ever. She hears a noise from the living room. It is too late for maintenance to be working.  Quietly, she sets her bags of groceries down before investigating. Cautiously, she inches toward the source of the noise. She imagines thousands of possibilities of who or what could be waiting for her around the corner. A figure sits on the couch. Constance’s heart nearly gives out before she realizes it is her best friend.</p>
<p>“Mercedes!” She gasps with horror at the intruder.</p>
<p>“Hey, Constance!” She waves at her from the couch. “You didn’t come to class today, which you never do unless you’re dead, so I came here to see if you’re okay.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Constance answers, still shocked from her friend’s intrusion, “How did you get in here?”</p>
<p>“Congratulations on being alive! Come sit down with me.” Mercedes pats the couch, conveniently not answering her question. “Tell me about your troubles.”</p>
<p>“Mercie, nothing is wrong. I assure you.”</p>
<p>She remains on the couch, staring at her and patting the space on the couch more violently. Constance knows she has no other choice, so she gives in and sits down next to her. Mercedes immediately hugs her, covering herself in the woman’s long blonde hair. Constance can smell her perfume. It fills her nose. Mercedes smells something else.</p>
<p>“You smell like weed.” She notices, pulling away to look at her friend skeptically.</p>
<p>“I do?” Constance plays dumb. To be fair, she is still not sure what weed smells like.</p>
<p>“You do. It’s impossible not to notice.”</p>
<p>“How do <i>you</i> know what weed smells like?” She quips back.</p>
<p>“Oh, please. I don’t live under a rock. Everyone and their mother knows what weed smells like.” Then, Mercedes spies the new jacket. Her eyebrows raise with intrigue. She grabs Constance’s arm and investigates the garment closely. “Where’d you get this from? It’s not your typical style, but it looks good on you.”</p>
<p>“I borrowed it from a friend.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you skipped class?” Mercedes pesters her. “You were smoking weed with this mystery friend? Or maybe it was a date.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t a date,” Constance answers quickly. Her hasty response tells Mercedes everything.</p>
<p>Her friend smirks, giving her a knowing look. “Your reaction says everything I need to know. It was absolutely a date.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have time for this, Mercie. I was in dire need of a break, so I skipped class,” Constance groans at her. She stands back up to take her shoes off, ending the conversation.</p>
<p>Mercedes hops up after her, not ready to let it go. This gossip is much too juicy compared to their boring everyday lives. “Skip class? I know you better than that. You wouldn’t even skip class for a field trip back in high school. There has to be another reason.”</p>
<p>“There is not another reason!”</p>
<p>“This is about the record store, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“No. It is not.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is.” She digs through Constance’s bag to pull out the incriminating evidence. “When did you buy these?”</p>
<p>“I may or may not have bought them yesterday,” Constance mumbles, caught in the act.</p>
<p>“I knew it! You’re getting cozy with this record store girl.”</p>
<p>“I am not! She simply regards me as a valuable customer.”</p>
<p>“Valuable enough to give you her jacket? That’s girlfriend activity right here,” Mercedes argues.</p>
<p>“That is not girlfriend activity!”</p>
<p>“Yes it is. Plus, you spent the night at her place. That’s pretty telling if you ask me.”</p>
<p>“I am not having this conversation with you.” </p>
<p>“Could we have this conversation over dinner, then, maybe?”</p>
<p>“Dinner?” Constance’s stomach growls at the mention of it.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I already started it. It’s in the oven,” Mercedes says. Then, her eyes go wide. “Oh, goodness, I almost forgot it was in the oven. Thank you for reminding me.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Constance loves her friend more than anyone in the world.</p>
<p>“I also brought wine.” Mercedes holds out her peace offering. “It would go great with dinner.”</p>
<p>Constance is overcome with emotion. Tears start to form. Her entire body overflows with pure adoration for her best friend. Mercedes gets right to work; she has the bottle open and two glasses in front of her ready to be filled. Carefully, she pours the red liquid into each glass, being extra attentive to the height of each.</p>
<p>“Mercedes!” Constance scolds her. “You can’t fill them any higher!”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to pour a second glass.”</p>
<p>“As long as you hand me a glass of wine,” Constance sighs, shaking her head, “I don’t care how much is in it.”</p>
<p>Normally, Mercedes is not one to drink. Neither is Constance. Except for wine. Wine is their one exception. Wine tastings became their special outing of choice once they both reached the drinking age. Constance adores fancy wines, especially when paired with chocolate. Mercedes just prefers the chocolate. She cannot tell the difference between a ten dollar bottle of wine and a 50 dollar bottle. However, she does know her way to Constance’s heart, and it’s’ through her stomach.</p>
<p>“Fine. Take it. It’s a merlot or something.” Mercedes gives in, sliding her the dangerously filled glass. Constance has to lean down to slurp off the rim of the glass.</p>
<p>They quietly drink their wine while waiting for dinner. Mercedes flits about the kitchen. She chops up vegetable and fries them in a pan. The smell of garlic fills the apartment. Constance’s stomach rumbles. A drop of drool escapes her mouth. She quickly wipes it before her friend can see.</p>
<p>After fumbling around in the kitchen for an hour, Mercedes emerges with a delicious pork loin smeared with roasted garlic and lemon. Constance eagerly grabs a fork and knife. As usual, the meat melts in her mouth. The accents of lemon pair well with the garlic. And to top it off, the vegetables are roasted to perfection. She hasn’t eaten a vegetable in weeks.</p>
<p>“So.” Mercedes leans her head in her hand. She looks at Constance expectantly. “Tell me about your new girlfriend.”</p>
<p>“Hapi is not my girlfriend.” Constance dabs her face with her napkin to hide her expression. “I’ve been hanging out at the record store specifically to do homework and listen to music. That’s it.”</p>
<p>“You’ve gotta have a better story than that.” Mercedes nudges her playfully. “Give me all the juicy the details.”</p>
<p>“I do not have a better story than that. Hapi and I are just friends. There is nothing ‘juicy’ going on between us,” Constance assures her.</p>
<p>“Boring.” Her friend crosses her arms. “Give me something to work with. There’s gotta be more to the story than that. Like, where did the jacket come from? She had to give it to you for some reason.”</p>
<p>She never drops a conversation when it comes to Constance’s love life, as boring as it is. Regardless, Constance rarely dates. Somehow, this makes it more interesting to Mercedes. Give her an inch, and she runs a mile. And she is not going to stop until the crosses the finish line.</p>
<p>“C’mon. Tell me,” she says sweetly.</p>
<p>Constance can’t say no to her. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you what happened. If you assist me in cleaning up dinner.”</p>
<p>“You have me doing everything for you!”</p>
<p>“I’ll help! I promise.”</p>
<p>Mercedes cleans up the mess from dinner. Constance helps her, satisfied that her friend is willing to do so much for her. Besides, the pork was amazing. She feels she owes the woman her life now. Afterwards, they head to the bedroom. Constance flops onto the bed, and immediately, exhaustion takes over. With her stomach full and the sun set, she is ready to go to sleep. Mercedes, however, has a different plan. She sits down on the edge and leans back to lie down next to her.</p>
<p>“I cleaned up dinner. Now, you have to keep your end of the deal,” Mercedes pesters her.</p>
<p>Constance can’t break her promise. It’s against her moral code. A lady has to have some values. So she counts off the facts on her hand. “I haven’t known her long, so we don’t know much about each other. What I do know is she owns a record store downtown. She’s 25 years old. She loves rock music. Well, anything loud, really. But I caught her singing and dancing to Donna Summer once when she thought I wasn’t looking. If you ask her, she will deny it.”</p>
<p>“Is she tall?” Mercedes asks, “I love tall girls.” </p>
<p>“She’s taller than me.”</p>
<p>“Everyone’s taller than you.”</p>
<p>“I resent that statement,” Constance says with a huff, “And she’s taller than you too. If I remember correctly.”</p>
<p>“Consider me very interested. May I meet her?” Mercedes bats her eyelashes cutely at her. She twirls her hair around her finger.</p>
<p>“You absolutely may not.”</p>
<p>Like that will stop her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>mercedes time &gt;:3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and the plot chickens!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up early for classes after a long weekend is torture of the worst kind. Constance wouldn’t wish this upon her worst enemy. Luckily for her, Mercedes stayed overnight to be her personal alarm clock. Her inhuman alarm clock still goes off as the morning comes. It blares loudly in the dark room. Immediately, Mercedes smacks the alarm off to snooze it. A few minutes later, it rings again. Mercedes smacks it again. Constance needs friends who actually enjoy being awake in the morning. After it rings a third time, Mercedes sits up and turns it off. She stretches out her back before heading into the bathroom for take a shower. Constance snores face down in the bed. After a while, the bathroom door flies open. Mercedes emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and surrounded by a cloud of steam. She looks angelic despite having woken up moments ago. Now, for her favorite part.</p>
<p>“Constance!” she screams, “Time to wake up!”</p>
<p>Constance wakes up with a start. Her heart jumps out of her chest. “Mercie, do you always have to yell?”</p>
<p> “Yes. This is a very necessary step.” Mercedes leaps on top of her, smothering her in her ample bosom. It would be fine if it were not for her lack of clothing.</p>
<p>“Do you at least have the decency to put some clothes on before you attack me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, whoops. I forgot.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>“Hey, Blondie, I got you something,” Hapi says, holding something behind her back.</p>
<p>Constance learned her lesson last time. Still, curiosity gets the better of her, and she can never turn down a show of gratitude. It would be improper.</p>
<p>“What did you get me?” She wonders curiously, trying to peek around Hapi’s back.</p>
<p>Her friend pulls out a record. “I don’t know if you have this one already, but I wanted you to have it. This one’s special.”</p>
<p>Constance takes the record. “Blondie? Really? Isn’t that a bit on the nose?”</p>
<p>“Nah. Look closer.”</p>
<p>She examines it closely. The record in question is a single, specifically Blondie’s “Call Me”. At the bottom of the record, someone sketched in a barely readable phone number in permanent marker.</p>
<p>“Whose phone number is this?” She asks.</p>
<p>“Take a guess,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Take a guess? This could be anyone in the city!”</p>
<p>“I’ll give you a hint. It’s someone in this room.”</p>
<p>“It’s not my phone number,” Constance says, furrowing her brow as she is deep in thought, “And since you are the only other person in the room at this moment, I must conclude that this is your phone number.”</p>
<p>“There you go! I knew you’d figure it out.” The redhead pats her on the back.</p>
<p>“But why are you giving this to me?” Constance wonders.</p>
<p>“Because you’re my friend, and I want you to have my number. Maybe we could hang out some time. Or just talk. Up to you.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, this is a very thoughtful gift. Thank you, Hapi.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome, Coco.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>After class, Constance heads to the record store to do her homework. Her past couple visits were uneventful. Hapi was busy going through the new releases and talking to customers. Constance had homework. The store was strangely busier than usual. Maybe it is because the holidays are coming up next month. Without the distraction of a certain redhead, Constance focused on her work to catch up for her missed classes. She did not mind. Just being at the record store is enough for her. Neither of them seemed to mind.</p>
<p>Now, she waits at the bus stop, leaning against a pole. A soft breeze blows her hair in her face. She brushes it out of the way only for the wind to blow it back. After a few attempts, she gives up. She pulls her sleeves over her hands for warmth. Soon, the bus screeches to a stop in front of her, breaking her from her daze.</p>
<p>She can see Hapi through the window of the storefront. A customer keeps her busy at the counter. She seems to be in a good mood. Money does that to working class people. Constance walks in; the familiar ring of the bell greets her. The floor creaks under her step. Not wanting to distract Hapi, she heads straight to her corner to start working. She notices a crate of stray CDs Hapi left in the wrong place. Without thinking, she tidies them up and returns the box to its proper location. She starts sorting through the CDs, separating them by genre. The albums pile high around her. Then, for fun, she alphabetizes them. In fact, this is much more enjoyable than she thought it would be. Soon, she has three boxes organized and packed away. Feeling satisfied, she returns to her usual corner to start her actual work.</p>
<p>The giant textbook plops onto the ground with a loud thump. A wave of dust blows out from under the book. Constance coughs. Immediately, her good mood goes sour. The text feels like it is in another language. Business calculus should be made illegal and recognized as a form of torture. She will not miss that class when the semester is over.</p>
<p>She stares at a problem for what feels like hours. No matter how hard she stares at the paper, the numbers refuse to write. She runs her thumb through the pages. Unable to figure it out, she gives up. Her head falls into the book, and she groans in frustration. She stands up for a change of scenery, her joints aching from sitting on the floor for so long. She shakes off the sleepy feeling in her legs as she limps to the front of the store.</p>
<p>“Hapi, can I sit here with you?” she asks cutely, already putting her notebook down. How could she say no to her favorite customer?</p>
<p>“Sure. Just don’t ask me for help if it’s calculus. Or do, I guess. I’ll give it my best guess,” Hapi answers, looking her over. She gives her friend a knowing smirk. “Are you wearing my jacket?”</p>
<p>Constance blushes. She forgot she was wearing it. “I, uh, yes I am. I intended to return it. I wore it solely so I would not forget to bring it.”</p>
<p>“Cute.”</p>
<p>	Constance hops onto a stool next to her and acts busy. Doodles of music notes and dinosaurs line the edges of her notebook instead of numbers and equations. She doodles another one next to her unfinished math problem. For good measure, she adds a random number underneath, pretending it has something to do with the problem. It’s still not right, but at least it is done. Just fourteen more questions to go. If Constance will still be alive by the time she gets to them. She hopes not.</p>
<p>Hapi does not take notice of her as she walks around the store tidying up. The sun shines through the front window. People walk by, not paying any attention to the store. Constance tries her hardest to focus on her work. Anything and everything is more interesting than math. <i>Especially</i> that water stain on the ceiling. Her textbook is no help, somehow making the problem more complicated for her. She feels like a kindergartener.</p>
<p>A bell catches her attention. She glances up. A customer walks in, slamming the door behind him. Constance eyes him curiously as he rummages through the used CDs, then the new ones. Finally, he makes a decision and walks up to the counter. He slaps down a CD and pulls out his wallet. Constance stares at him for a moment, not sure what to do.</p>
<p>“Ma’am, I would like to buy this.” He waves a hand in front of her impatiently.</p>
<p>“Oh, you mean me,” she realizes.</p>
<p>The man gives her a strange look. “Yes, you. You’re the one sitting behind the cash register.”</p>
<p>Constance takes the CD. “I love the Smashing Pumpkins. Did you hear they’re working on a new album?”</p>
<p>The man grunts an answer. He does not seem interested in conversing. Instead, he pulls out a wad of crumpled bills and tosses a few on the counter.</p>
<p>Constance checks the album for a price tag and calculates the tax on a calculator. The math is easier than expected. She daintily takes a bill and smooths it out. Then, another until there is enough to pay for the disc. The cash register opens with a loud clinging noise. The machine is old, but usually works without problem. She counts out the change carefully and hands it to the man. He swipes the money and puts the CD in his jacket pocket along with the extra cash. The door slams behind him.</p>
<p>The bell catches Hapi’s attention. She peers up from her work. “Did someone just leave?”</p>
<p>Constance shrugs. “Some guy. I didn’t recognize him. But do not fret. I took care of it for you.”</p>
<p>Hapi squints at her. “What do you mean you took care of it?”</p>
<p>“He came up with me with intention to purchase a CD. I took the liberty of cashing him out since I didn’t see you around. He was a bit grumpy about it, though.”</p>
<p>“Coco, I’m the one who works here. You should’ve called me.”</p>
<p>“I assumed you were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you,” Constance explains, “It’s no big deal. I handled it well.”</p>
<p>The redhead eyes her suspiciously. “You still should’ve called me.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t any trouble!” She insists, “I like helping.”</p>
<p>“Coco, if you really want to help me, do your homework.”</p>
<p>“But, Hapi,” Constance whines, “Math is so hard. I’d rather help you. Your job is so much cooler than business calculus.”</p>
<p>“I’m flattered.” Hapi rolls her eyes. “But, god, you’re a strange one.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing wrong with being a little weird! That’s what my mom always told me.”</p>
<p>“Did she also tell you to do your homework?”</p>
<p>Constance hesitates. She holds her head in shame. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Then, do what mommy tells you, and do your homework,” Hapi says, tapping her notebook aggressively.</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am.”</p>
<p>With the sun setting, Constance’s homework is still not done. The notebook, lined with more doodles than ever before, sits in front of her. She has been sitting on that stool for hours with no progress; she cannot feel her rear any longer. Stress starts to set in. Her back aches, and her brain grows muddled with fog. She finds anything to distract her. The music does a great job of doing so. Especially when it is louder than any human should be listening to. She taps her pencil to the beat. The bell rings again as Hapi steps outside for a brief moment. When she returns, she locks the door and takes the open sign down. Constance has officially wasted her entire day. She crashes into the desk in defeat.</p>
<p>“Well, if you fail business calc, you could have a promising career as an artist,” Hapi hums over her shoulder. She leans an arm on her. “Maybe you should be an art major.”</p>
<p>Constance jumps. Her heart leaps out of her chest. “Hapi, don’t do that! You startled me.”</p>
<p>She laughs at her. Constance hits her shoulder.</p>
<p>“So what’s wrong?” The redhead asks, hopping up onto the counter to sit.</p>
<p>“It’s stupid,” Constance sighs, tapping her fingers on her notebook. The problems still haven’t solved themselves.</p>
<p>“What’s stupid? You going to college for something you don’t enjoy?” Hapi raises an eyebrow at her.</p>
<p>“I enjoy college,” the blonde scoffs. She could not be more obviously lying. She doesn’t even believe herself.</p>
<p>“You never talk about your classes unless you’re complaining,” her friend reasons, “Maybe that’s a sign you’re doing something wrong.”</p>
<p>“I… Ugh. You’re right.” For once in her life, Constance has no response. Her friend is right. She runs her hand through her hair. Hapi puts a reassuring hand on her back. She squeezes her shoulder gently.</p>
<p>“I think you need to think about this,” she says, running her hand through the other’s hair, “Come sit in the back with me. We’ll talk this out.”</p>
<p>“I don’t need to think about anything,” Constance insists. She has done enough thinking to last a lifetime.</p>
<p>“No. We’re thinking. Come with me. This is not a choice.”</p>
<p>Constance has no other choice but to oblige. She follows her friend into the back room. Hapi shuts the door gently behind them. She walks Constance over to the couch. The younger woman plops down, sinking into the soft cushions. She pulls into herself as she fights back the urge to cry. Hapi takes her hand and gently rubs with her thumb. It’s such a simple act, but it is oddly comforting.</p>
<p>“Talk to me.” Hapi’s demeanor changes. There is concern in her eyes. “I want to help you.”</p>
<p>“I feel overwhelmed.” Constance hides her face in her hands, cursing herself for this terrible swell of emotions she allowed herself to feel. “I’m doing all this work, and not even for something I love. I don’t know what to do with myself.”</p>
<p>“Well, what are you passionate about?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what my passions are.”</p>
<p>“Constance, no offense, but you’re the most passionate person I know.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have any passions,” she cries.</p>
<p>“Liar. You have passions. You just can’t think of them.”</p>
<p>“Then, what are my passions? Since you seem to know me better than myself.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know yourself better than you, but sometimes it takes an outside perspective to remind yourself of who you truly are,” Hapi says. She puts an arm around the other woman. “You have so much to give to this world, Coco. Like, music. You love music. I’ve never seen someone more passionate about music than you. And that means a lot coming from me.”</p>
<p>“I may have a passion for music, but it will ultimately get me nowhere in this world.” Constance leans into her.</p>
<p>“Lies. Look at where I am. And, uh, Kate Bush. She’s doing great.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to open a record store,” she replies with great disdain, “And I’m not Kate Bush. I’m nobody.”</p>
<p>“You may not be Kate Bush, but you’re Coco. You can still become a musician no matter what people tell you.”</p>
<p>“A musician? That’s rich. My father would love that,” Constance laughs.</p>
<p>Hapi frowns. “I’m serious.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. You’re pretty. You have a nice voice.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have a nice voice.” A dull blush covers her cheeks at the compliment. Constance decides to gloss over the statement, not ready to handle it. The thought still lingers in the back of her mind.</p>
<p>“Liar. I heard you hit Whitney Houston’s high notes just the other day.”</p>
<p>“You heard that?” She nearly dies from embarrassment.</p>
<p>Hapi nods. “I heard the entire performance.”</p>
<p>“Erase that from your memory immediately.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am. Well, if singing is too nerve-racking, you can always learn an instrument.”</p>
<p>“Actually, I already know how to play the bass,” Constance admits quietly.</p>
<p>“You play the bass? Why haven’t I heard of this?” The redhead leans in with great interest. She looks at her friend with curious eyes.</p>
<p>“Because I haven’t played since high school. I doubt I’m any good. I don’t even own a bass anymore.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should pick it back up,” Hapi suggests, “It could turn into something big. Who knows?”</p>
<p>“You can’t be serious.”</p>
<p>“I am one hundred percent serious,” she assures her.</p>
<p>“I can’t do that. I’m much too busy with school.”</p>
<p>“Just drop out.”</p>
<p>“What?” Constance looks at her, appalled that she has the gall to even suggest such a thing. The way she suggests it makes it sound <i>easy</i>.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Take a year off to discover yourself. I hear all the cool kids are doing it these days.”</p>
<p>“I can’t just drop out!” The blonde babbles, “I need to graduate so I can get a job and pay off my student loans! I have everything planned out. Sure I’m a little behind, but if I work harder, I can catch up.”</p>
<p>“You won’t have student loans to pay if you don’t go to college.” Hapi taps her forehead as she offers what she thinks is the best advice she’s ever given.</p>
<p>“I can’t do that. My life would be ruined,” Constance groans. She hugs her knees to her chest.</p>
<p>“It’s not the end of the world,” her friend says, “I love you, Blondie, but you’re a bit too dramatic sometimes. You need to learn to go with the flow and accept that you can’t be perfect.”</p>
<p>“I absolutely can’t do that. Not knowing what comes next is too frightening. I refuse to throw my life away to whim,” Constance responds.</p>
<p>“Think of it like destiny. Maybe dropping out is the next step in life.”</p>
<p>“I assure you that is not my destiny.”</p>
<p>“Just think about it. Don’t think your life is set in stone.”</p>
<p>Constance sighs, “I don’t want to think about it.”</p>
<p>“Then, let’s just relax. You’ve already done enough thinking today,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“I can’t relax. I have homework to be doing,” Constance argues.</p>
<p>“No no no,” her friend shushes her, pushing her back into the couch. “It’s relaxing time.”</p>
<p>“It’s not relaxing time. I have homework.” She fights back.</p>
<p>But Hapi is too strong. She pins Constance back into the cushions. “You’re relaxing now.”</p>
<p>Unable to struggle against hr friend’s sheer strength, Constance has no choice but to oblige. She settles back into the couch, and Hapi does the same, sitting close enough to her that their shoulders touch. Constance finds herself leaning against her friend. Her shoulder is quite comfortable, and her presence alone is comforting. The added contact soothes her more. Soon, Constance finds herself able to breathe again. She stares at the flickering candle on the table in front of them. They sit in a comfortable silence. The air is still and quiet. Only the occasional car passing by interrupts their solitude. For a brief moment, Constance feels calm. Her eyes droop, and she lets out a yawn.</p>
<p>“I should get going before it gets too late,” Constance says, knowing what will happen if she stays any longer.</p>
<p>“It’s already dark out,” Hapi warns her, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”</p>
<p>“I should be,” she answers hesitantly. She shivers at the thought of walking home so late at night. As most women have, she has had too many close calls.</p>
<p>“I’ll walk you.”</p>
<p>“Hapi-”</p>
<p>“I’m walking you,” the woman’s voice is stern. Her decision is final.</p>
<p>But Constance is too stubborn for her own good.</p>
<p>“I’ll be okay. I assure you,” she protests.</p>
<p>Hapi stands up and holds her hand out. “Okay, look. I’m using this as an excuse to spend more time with you, so let’s go.”</p>
<p>Constance sighs and lets the woman pull her up. “I guess I can’t say no to that.”</p>
<p>As night falls, the world grows colder. The temperature only drops as winter drags on. A soft breeze blows litter into the street. Although snow has fallen, one can barely tell with the traffic. The road is clear, but a light dusting of snow covers the sidewalks. The streetlights flicker yellow. Clouds obscure the moon. Occasionally, it peeks out, shining a fleeting light upon the two women. Constance pulls the sleeves of her jacket down to warm her hands. Even with a winter coat, the cold still gets to her. She eyes Hapi’s hands. Hapi seems unaffected by the cold with her thick jacket. It hangs open, showing a flannel underneath. Constance eyes her with jealousy. Then, her gaze falls to Hapi’s hands resting comfortably in her pockets.</p>
<p>“It’s awful cold out,” Hapi states casually, “Are you sure you’re warm enough in that jacket?”</p>
<p>Constance feels a bit of heat on her face. “My body is a warm enough temperature, but my hands are cold.”</p>
<p>“You should’ve worn gloves.”</p>
<p>“You have hands.”</p>
<p>“And you have pockets.” Hapi shrugs. “You could rub them together too.”</p>
<p>She demonstrates for her.</p>
<p>“That’s not enough,” Constance huffs.</p>
<p>“Put them under your shirt.”</p>
<p>“That’s so awkward looking.” She flushes with embarrassment at the thought.</p>
<p>“Put them under <i>my</i> shirt.” The woman smirks.</p>
<p>“Hapi, that is quite inappropriate!” Constance no longer feels cold. Her body burns alive inside her coat. She thanks the night that Hapi can’t see the obvious blush upon her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I can be more inappropriate.”</p>
<p>“Do not!”</p>
<p>“Alright. I’ll hold your hand since you seem so insistent on it,” Hapi says disinterestedly. She holds out her hand for the other woman. “Even if you’re gonna freeze me to death.”</p>
<p>She slips her hand into Constance’s cold hand. Constance becomes increasingly aware of how sweaty her palms are. They walk in silence for a while. The city is much quieter this late at night. Downtown is much busier, but they are on the other side of town. Few people walk about minding their own business.</p>
<p>“Why do you own the record store?” Constance asks. The question has lingered in her mind for too long.</p>
<p>Hapi visibly tenses at the question. She lets go of her hand, putting it back in her pocket. “It’s a long story.”</p>
<p>“Well, I would like to hear it,” Constance responds, “I want to know more about you since we’re friends and all.”</p>
<p>The woman takes a deep breath and Constance catches her scratching at her wrists.</p>
<p>“Constance,” she answers, thinking through her words carefully. She bites her cheek. “I trust you, and we’ve known each other for a while now, but I don’t know if getting to know me is what you want.”</p>
<p>“That’s a ridiculous notion. Of course I want to get to know you,” the younger woman assures her.</p>
<p>Hapi rolls her eyes. “You’re too much sometimes.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Constance smiles at her.</p>
<p>“Do you know how old the store is?”</p>
<p>“Older than me?”</p>
<p>“The former owner opened the place up in 1964. Used to be called the ‘Love House’, but people kept getting the wrong idea. He ended up renaming it to ‘The B Side’ since he liked to collect odds and ends when it came to music. He prided himself with his wide selection.”</p>
<p>“Why would they get the wrong idea?” Constance wonders innocently.</p>
<p>Hapi gives her a look.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Constance says, suddenly realizing the implications. Her cheeks burn a dull pink. “Well, that’s a long time for a business to be around. What happened to the former owner?”</p>
<p>“He’s dead,” Hapi replies bluntly.</p>
<p>“Oh. I’m sorry. I should have known.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay. He’s been dead for a while now. I feel more sorry for him than anything. I wasn’t exactly the daughter he was looking for.”</p>
<p>“You were his daughter?”</p>
<p>“In a sense,” she says, “He didn’t have a wife or kids. Not even a brother or even a goddamn dog. His parents both died early on. He was all alone until I showed up.”</p>
<p>“How did you meet him?”</p>
<p>“I was seventeen,” she answers, staring up at the sky as she reminisces, “I was stupid and ran away from home. I desperately needed a job, but no one wants to hire a stupid kid. Especially a homeless one. I tended to loiter at a certain record store because the owner took a liking to me. Eventually, Hanneman gave me a job and a place to stay until I got on my feet. It was just me and him from then on.”</p>
<p>“At least he had you,” Constance adds comfortingly. She reaches for her hand once more. Hapi takes it willingly.</p>
<p>“At least he had me,” she repeats under her breath. “But now he’s gone and left me the store. It’s all I have now.”</p>
<p>Certain questions poke at Constance, but she does not dare ask them. Hapi looks so vulnerable like this.</p>
<p>“Hey,” the blonde says.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>She stops Hapi and pulls her into a hug. Hapi holds onto her tightly.</p>
<p>“You have me,” Constance murmurs into her. She catches a slight smile on Hapi’s face.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Finally, they arrive at Constance’s apartment. The building is older, but well kept. A couple people stand by the building smoking cigarettes. They talk amongst themselves, not paying any attention to the two women. A light snow starts to fall. Snowflakes gather in Constance’s hair. It only falls harder by the minute. Eventually, the smokers grow frustrated with the weather and step inside.</p>
<p>“So now I know where you live,” Hapi muses.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome to come inside and warm up,” Constance offers, sticking her hands back in her pockets. Her breath comes out in a chilled cloud.</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Hapi insists, “I would like to get home back sooner rather than later.”</p>
<p>“But you were kind enough to walk me home. It’s the least I can do. Please.”</p>
<p>Both women are too stubborn to let the other woman go. They stand in the snow arguing. The snow only comes down harder, slowly freezing them. Finally, it comes down in a flurry fitting of a blizzard. The wind howls, and a burst of white fills the air. Constance can barely see the woman in front of her. A rush of cold chills her body. With no other choice, they rush inside out of the storm.</p>
<p>“I guess you have to stay now,” Constance huffs, wiping her blonde hair out of her face. Slowly, the snow atop her head melts, making her hair cling to her face. She cannot help but smile at their predicament,</p>
<p>“Don’t look so smug,” Hapi answers.</p>
<p>The elevator dings, and they ride to the top floor. Constance immediately starts peeling off her soaking clothes as she walks through the door. Her jacket falls to the floor; her shoes and socks quickly follow. The rest of her clothes stay on. She would not dare look indecent around company. Especially if the company in question is a certain redhead. So her pants stay on despite the fact that they are currently freezing onto her legs. She hobbles toward her bedroom to layer more clothes on, shivering all the while.</p>
<p>Hapi closes the door behind them. It closes with a slight click. The hallway is dim with only a small light by the door shining on them. The apartment is silent aside from occasional gust of wind from outside. Their shoes leave a puddle on the floor. Constance is too tired to worry about it.</p>
<p>“Do you need dry clothes?” Constance offers from the other room.</p>
<p>“Yes. I’m soaked.” The woman sheds her jacket and starts unbuttoning her shirt. Her pants come off next. Her flannel shirt barely keeps her decent.</p>
<p>“Oh. Alright. You’re just taking it all off right there.” Constance averts her eyes.</p>
<p>“I can do more.”</p>
<p>“Hapi-“</p>
<p>The redhead starts unbuttoning her flannel. To Constance’s dismay, she is only wearing a bra underneath. Her face burns a deep red.</p>
<p>“Why must you do this to me?”  She asks exasperatedly.</p>
<p>“Because you have the best reactions.”</p>
<p>She notices the woman sneaking a glance downward before nudging past her to explore her room. Constance follows close behind, not wanting her to get into any more trouble. Luckily for her, she managed to clean her room somewhat recently. Hapi makes herself at home as she looks over every inch of her friend’s bedroom.</p>
<p>“I can show you around,” Constance says, trying her best to keep her gaze upward.</p>
<p>“No need.” Hapi answers casually. “You have a tiny apartment. I can see it all from right here.”</p>
<p>The younger woman quickly heads to her dresser. The drawers squeak open as she frantically searches for clothes. She pulls out a shirt and throws it at Hapi. Hapi catches the fabric and stares at it in her hands.</p>
<p>“Hapi, put a shirt on please.” Constance refuses to look in her direction. “Or at the very least button up your flannel.”</p>
<p>“Why? I’m hot.”</p>
<p>She <i>is</i>. That is not the point.</p>
<p>“Why?” Her face flushes red again. “That shouldn’t even be a question. It’s indecent.”</p>
<p>“Why would me being shirtless be indecent? I think it’s more punk rock for me to keep the flannel open,” Hapi teases her. Her smug face tells her everything. This woman is absolutely determined to keep any clothes off her body at Constance’s dispense.</p>
<p>Constance runs her fingers through her hair trying to obscure her burning face. She tries once more. “Hapi, you will button your shirt this instant.”</p>
<p>“I’m comfortable like this,” Hapi refuses.</p>
<p>“This is my home, and you will dress appropriately.”</p>
<p>“Make me.” She sticks her tongue out at her childishly.</p>
<p>That was the final straw. If Hapi won’t dress herself, Constance will take matters into her own hands. In an instant, she flings herself into the other woman. Hands clamor for buttons. Of course, Hapi fights back. She grabs Constance by the wrists in an effort to pry her away. She may be strong, but Constance has the stubbornness of a bull. She fights to the death over a matter of buttons.</p>
<p>“Put your clothes on!” Constance commands her. She struggles against the other woman.</p>
<p>“Never!” Hapi resists.</p>
<p>Constance pushes into her harder. Suddenly, gravity takes over. Hapi knocks back, bringing both of them down onto the bed. Their heads smack together, and Constance feels dizzy. The room spins around her for a brief moment.</p>
<p>“Ow,” is all Hapi says. Her head falls back onto the mattress. With a minor concussion, she gives in.</p>
<p>Victory is far off as Constance is also too tired to finish the deed. Instead, she lies lazily atop her friend, head throbbing. Exhaustion creeps in, making it impossible to move.</p>
<p>“I forgot how late it was,” Constance says through a yawn. She lies her head down on Hapi’s chest.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I’m beat,” Hapi mumbles, “Also, you’re very wet.”</p>
<p>It is at that moment Constance realizes her pants are still soaked. The adrenaline rush wears off, and the cold seeps back in. With a heavy heart, the blonde climbs off Hapi to finish getting changed. As much as she would like to fall asleep right on top of her friend, she needs more clothes than she has on or else she risks freezing to death in the night.</p>
<p>Hapi watches her unabashedly as Constance discards her pants.  Constance tries her best to ignore her unsubtle staring. The wet fabric tugs off with a bit of effort. The air is cold on her exposed skin. Quickly, she replaces the garment with warm pajama pants and a loose sweater over her shirt. The soft texture comforts her. The sleeves fall over her hands.</p>
<p>“You look very huggable right now,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Do you really think so?” Constance sits on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric invites her. The two climb under the blankets.</p>
<p>“Mhm.” Hapi’s eyes are already closed. Her chest rises and falls slowly. Constance lazily watches her a moment before drifting into a peaceful slumber. The wind howls outside the window. A single beam of light shines in through the window onto the bed. Slowly, sleep takes over. Constance drifts off.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Sunlight beams into the room as Constance opens her eyes. The sun has a bad habit of glaring directly into her eyes as soon as she opens them. No matter how many times she adjusts the blinds, the light peeks through to wake her up every morning. Constance yawns and shifts to free her arm. She rubs the drowsiness out of her eyes. Hapi is still fast asleep beside her, but she seems to have shifted in her sleep. She lies facing her now, her legs curled slightly upward touching her own. Her red hair covers most of her face. Constance takes a moment to gaze at the scene. Hapi looks so different like this, so serene. Constance finds herself enthralled with the sight. She could get used to this every morning. Plus the blankets are much warmer with a second person in the bed. Where did that thought come from? Constance shakes the thought away. She must think purely from a logistical standpoint. That must be what it is.</p>
<p>Either way, it is a good excuse or her to go back to sleep on a cold winter day. Constance shifts to make herself comfortable again and drifts back to sleep.</p>
<p>Constance wakes up to a colder bed. Hapi is missing. The blankets are tucked around her to keep her warm and comfortable. Constance looks around for the other woman but finds nothing. A slight smell catches her attention, and she can hear noises coming from outside her bedroom. The door to her room is cracked open, letting in the light. Constance shrugs the blankets off and gets up. She finds Hapi in the kitchen with a pan of eggs. Her stomach grumbles at the promise of food.</p>
<p>“There you are, sleeping beauty. I’m not even gonna ask if you’re hungry. It’s almost done,” Hapi says tiredly, “Where’s your spice cabinet?”</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, I have some salt and pepper in little shakers by the sink,” Constance answers.</p>
<p>The look she gets is strong enough to kill. “You don’t have any spices?”</p>
<p>“Are salt and pepper not spices?”</p>
<p>“Salt does not count as a spice. I will die on that hill. Pepper is a start, but there’s so many other spices out there. What about cumin? Or basil? Red pepper? Hell, what about garlic? Everyone has garlic.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have any of those,” Constance admits in shame.</p>
<p>Hapi shakes her head disappointedly. “If you weren’t so cute, I’d end our friendship right here. Luckily for you, I’m gonna teach you how to cook properly. When are you done with school?”</p>
<p>“Like in general? Or when the semester ends?”</p>
<p>“When the semester ends. It’s like, Christmas or something, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I have two more weeks before my finals.”</p>
<p>“Once the semester is over, it’s gonna be you, me, and this kitchen. Save the fucking date.”</p>
<p><i>Date?</i> Constance desperately needs to stop overthinking.</p>
<p>“Also, you’re out of coffee,” Hapi adds not-so-helpfully.</p>
<p>“Don’t remind me.”</p>
<p>Breakfast goes over well. Hapi works well with so little. Or perhaps Constance was just hungry. Despite being a secret genius in the kitchen, Hapi’s cleaning skills are quite lacking. The carton of eggs sits on the counter next to the fridge. Splattered egg sticks to the pan upon the stove. Their empty plates still sit upon the table waiting to be washed. Constance finally forces herself to stand up and clean. Hapi hops up to help her, grabbing the dirty plates.</p>
<p>“No,” Constance scolds her, “You were so kind as to make breakfast. It is only courteous for me to clean it up. Go sit back down and relax. Let me take care of you for once.”</p>
<p>She prefers an empty kitchen anyway. Well, it’s rare she ever has anyone else in her home in the first place. Her apartment is small, certainly much too small for a second person. It is easier if Hapi stays out of her way, as much as she enjoys having her around. Her guest wanders into the living room close by. Constance glances at her going through her music collection. Dishes clash together in the sink as she scrubs them clean. Water spills everywhere around her. Hapi takes no notice to her. She busies herself in Constance’s belongings, disappearing into the living room. A song interrupts Constance’s work groove. Then, it strikes her. She drops her sponge into the sink.</p>
<p>“Hapi, what are you doing?” Her cheeks burn red.</p>
<p>“Madonna?” The woman bubbles with laughter. She holds up the album to show her. “I shouldn’t be so surprised.”</p>
<p>Constance stomps into the living room. The music only gets louder. Hapi dances along, obviously enjoying herself.</p>
<p>“I’m allowed to like Madonna. She’s good, so stop it.” The blonde crosses her arms.</p>
<p>“Look! She made a whole album dedicated to you!” Hapi flips the album over to reveal Madonna’s <i>Like a Virgin</i>.</p>
<p>“Hapi!” Constance yells at her.</p>
<p>“It’s the name of the album!”</p>
<p>“And it’s a good album.” Constance stands her ground. “One of my favorites, in fact.”</p>
<p> “Is that a coincidence that this is your favorite Madonna album?” Hapi cannot contain her laughter anymore. She falls on the floor laughing at her horrible joke. Constance glares at her and turns the stereo down. Hapi sprawls out on the floor, too comfortable for her own good. The carpet is quite soft. The younger woman kicks her in the leg.</p>
<p>“Ah, Constance, I’m sorry.” The woman finally catches her breath. “It’s okay to be a virgin. I just like to tease you.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me saying this, but actually, I am not a virgin,” Constance corrects her.</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Hapi sits up. “You know what sex is?”</p>
<p>“I know what sex is, and I have participated in the act before.”</p>
<p>“No way.”</p>
<p>“Yes way.”</p>
<p>“That’s so wild. You don’t seem like the type.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean I don’t ‘seem like the type’?” Constance asks, “What type of grown adult doesn’t know what sex is?”</p>
<p>Hapi shrugs. “I thought you were one of those naïve Catholic school girls.”</p>
<p>“I never went to Catholic school.”</p>
<p>“Huh. Who would’ve guessed?”</p>
<p>“Clearly, not you,” Constance says, still appalled by the other woman’s words, “Did you really think I went to Catholic school?”</p>
<p>“Yes. You just have that aura about you.”</p>
<p>“What makes you say that?” She wonders curiously.</p>
<p>“You’re blonde.” Is all Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Really? That’s your only reason?”</p>
<p>“Well, that among many other things.”</p>
<p>“What am I going to do with you?” Constance pinches the bridge of her nose.</p>
<p>“I can think of a few things,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Let’s save this discussion for another time.”</p>
<p>It is only morning, and Constance is already done with the day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw for some kinda tame verbal parental abuse and homophobia</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the week comes to an end, Constance forcibly finds more time for hanging out at the record store. Her studies go by normally, as in extremely frustratingly, not caring enough to note anything in particular. It’s all the same boring material. Economics still makes no sense. Neither does calculus. On occasion, Mercedes pops into her apartment to make sure her best friend eats dinner and gets a full night’s rest. Although, it is rare Constance feels fully rested regardless of how long she sleeps. Twelve hours or two, it all feels the same. The days crawl on, and Constance only gets more tired. Soon, the week of finals is upon them. In a horrible attempt to learn an entire semester’s worth of material, the two friends spend time together at the library studying for their last week of classes.</p>
<p>Constance arrives first at their usual table, a quiet corner away from the crowds and the especially mean librarian. She knows she has a tendency to be loud, so she tries to position herself as far from the front desk as possible. She lays out her work in front of her. Already, it looks exhausting. Her pen falls onto the table with a click. The wear shows from the many essays she wrote with it. There is barely any ink left, but with a few aggressive circles on the corner of her notebook, Constance manages to squeeze more life out of it.</p>
<p>A small group of students passes by looking for a study spot. They glance over at Constance and hurry on their way. She recognizes a couple of them from her classes, but no one she is particularly close with. Not that she has ever talked to any of her fellow classmates. They have never taken any interest in her, so why should she bother taking interest in them? Even if part of her wishes they would. But she has more important things to worry about. Everyone will be praising her once she becomes a rich entrepreneur.</p>
<p>She checks her watch. Four o’clock. Too early for dinner. Food would be wonderful right about now. Maybe a nice sandwich or hot soup. Or tea. God, she misses tea. She would kill for some rose tea right now. Or maybe bergamot. Or- Actually, she would kill to be anywhere else right now.</p>
<p>Hapi’s advice nags at her head as she slogs through the week. Finals loom over her head like a guillotine, and it has only stressed her more. Constance has been on autopilot for the entire semester. Her brain cannot handle any other thoughts beyond pure survival. She finds very little enjoyment in her time at the record store and studying with Mercedes. It gives her a brief break from the monotony, but ultimately, she still has to return to her classwork. Maybe Mercedes is why she even stays in college. College gave Constance a reason to see her best friend more. Their late night study sessions, suffering through long class sessions together, sharing lunch. College brought them closer. Constance isn’t ready to let that go.</p>
<p>A loud crash interrupts her thought process. She looks up to see Mercedes smiling down at her. Her books fall onto the table loudly. Constance glances around nervously, hoping the librarian did not notice.</p>
<p>“Hey, Constance,” her friend greets, “How was your day?”</p>
<p>“It was quite tiring,” she sighs, “There’s too much of everything going on right now. I just want finals to be over.”</p>
<p>One step at a time. Constance doesn’t know if she has any steps left in her.</p>
<p>Mercedes frowns. “Do you wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>“What is there to talk about?”</p>
<p>“You’re unhappy. What’s going on? Talk to me.” She sits down at the table next to her. Her eyes are filled with concern.</p>
<p>Constance plays with her hair. “I don’t know how to tell you. Well, I guess I know how to tell you, but I’m afraid to say it out loud. Like if I say it, I’ll actually have to face the truth.”</p>
<p>Mercedes takes her friend’s hand to comfort her. “It’s okay, Constance. You can tell me anything.”</p>
<p>Constance squeezes her hand, still feeling hesitant. She wills herself to speak anyway. “I may or may not be thinking of dropping out.”</p>
<p>“You what?” Mercedes gasps.</p>
<p>“Please let me explain. It won’t be forever. Just until I can figure out what I actually want to go to college for.”</p>
<p>“This is a big decision to make. How long have you been thinking about this?”</p>
<p>She hesitates. “It’s been on my mind ever since I finished last semester. I haven’t thought about it seriously until now. I never really thought of it as an option.”</p>
<p>“Why do you want to drop out?” Mercedes asks.</p>
<p>“I’m not happy here. Doing this.” Constance gestures at everything around her. “The only reason I’m doing it because I don’t know what else to do. I’m too scared to drop out, and I’m scared to lose you.”</p>
<p>“Constance,” her friend’s tone is calm yet serious, “If you’re not happy, don’t stay in college. Take time to figure things out. If you’re afraid everything is going to be ruined by this, it won’t be. Sure, it’ll be hard, but this isn’t a setback you can’t overcome. In fact, it might not even be a setback.”</p>
<p>“What about you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, please, you’re never getting rid of me. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter how hard it gets.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“One hundred percent,” Mercedes assures her. She takes her friend’s hand and squeezes it comfortingly. “I’ll be here for you no matter what. I’ll help you any way I can. This is my promise to you.”</p>
<p>“Thank you. You truly are a great friend.” Constance embraces her. She sniffles into her shoulder, burying herself in her long braid.</p>
<p>“I love you, Constance.” She rubs her back to calm her.</p>
<p>“I love you too.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>“Hapi, I need your help,” Constance says.</p>
<p>The redhead sets her notebook aside. “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“I made the decision to drop out of college,” she announces, suddenly feeling out of breath. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she starts to feel lightheaded.</p>
<p>Hapi’s face lights up. “I knew you could do it! How do you feel?”</p>
<p>“I feel terrified, but I think this is the right decision to make.”</p>
<p>The woman meets her halfway for a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Coco. You’re so brave. This is a big step in your life. Nothing can stop you now.”</p>
<p>“That’s the problem.”</p>
<p>“What’s the problem?”</p>
<p>“My father. I can’t drop out without informing him. He’ll figure it out right away.”</p>
<p>“How will he take the news?”</p>
<p>“Not well. I’m afraid he’ll disown me.”</p>
<p>“That’s not good. Do you want me to kick him in the balls?” Hapi offers.</p>
<p>“As humorous as the idea is, I believe that will make things worse,” Constance answers. Her hands start to shake with anxiety. Even the thought of Hapi kicking her father in the balls cannot keep her calm. “If he gets mad at me, he’ll stop giving me financial support. I won’t be able to afford my apartment or my student loans on my own. I’ll have to choose between eating or having a home. It’s winter. I can’t afford to be out on the streets. Maybe I shouldn’t drop out to keep him happy, so I can survive. It’ll be fine. Just a couple more years. I can handle that.”</p>
<p>“Calm down, Blondie. I got your back.” Hapi puts a grounding hand on each of her shoulders. She gazes into her eyes. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”</p>
<p>“Everything bad is going to happen to me. Maybe I deserve it.”</p>
<p>“Coco, you deserve the world. I refuse to let you believe otherwise,” Hapi says calmly, “Just take a deep breath, and we’ll work through this together. Now, how are you planning on telling him? In person or over the phone? Maybe you could send him a letter?”</p>
<p>“In person. I have to go home to spend Christmas with him,” Constance replies. Her voice waivers. She puts her head in her hands, trying not to tear her own hair out. “Oh, god. I’m going to ruin Christmas. He’ll disown me for sure.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so you’ll tell him the big news and see how he reacts. If it’s bad, call me. I’ll come get you. If he disowns you, you can just stay on my couch until you’re back on your feet again.”</p>
<p>“You’d do that for me?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Hapi. You’re a good friend.” Constance pulls her into a hug. Hapi hugs her back.</p>
<p>“Of course I am, you big dummy. You’ve got nothing to worry about as long as I’m around.” She musses her hair.</p>
<p>“Hey! Stop that at once.”</p>
<p>“Nah.”</p>
<p>"I'd do the same to you, but your hair seems to be perpetually messy," Constance comments, furthering her point by running her hands through Hapi's hair. It turns out to be incredibly soft, and the woman finds herself incredibly jealous. "Have you ever tried braiding it?"</p>
<p>"Why would I do that?" Hapi responds.</p>
<p>"Because it would look good on you."</p>
<p>"Well, I can't anyway."</p>
<p>"Why not?"</p>
<p>She shrugs. "I don't know how."</p>
<p>"How do you not know how to braid hair?" Constance gasps.</p>
<p>"I never had any sisters, and my mom kept her hair short," her friend reasons, "She was too busy to show me much of anything. Not that she would ever want to anyway.”</p>
<p>"I guess it is up to me to teach you the proper braiding technique. Every girl should know it."</p>
<p>"What about men with long hair?"</p>
<p>"They should know it too," Constance says, nudging Hapi playfully, "C'mon now. Let me show you how to do it. It would make me the happiest girl in the world."</p>
<p>"I guess I can't say no to that," her friend responds.</p>
<p>So they end up sitting on the floor, Constance sitting behind Hapi with her hands entangled in the other's hair. First, she makes an attempt to tame the beast that is Hapi's hair. With no brush, she is forced to use her fingers. She runs her hand through thick red lochs until it looks somewhat manageable.</p>
<p>"Let's begin. First you separate your hair into three sections," Constance states. Carefully, she pieces off a section of red hair. Nimble fingers start separating the hair into smaller parts which she then folds one over the other until it starts to resemble a braid. She bites her tongue as she concentrates. All the while, Hapi sits patiently waiting. She watches her with curious eyes.</p>
<p>"Do you see the pattern I'm using?" Constance asks.</p>
<p>"I cant see much of anything. You're behind me."</p>
<p>"Right! I didn't realize." She repositions herself in front of Hapi. "I'll show you on my hair since it's longer."</p>
<p>She brings it over her shoulder and does the same process once more. Occasionally, she glances up to see if Hapi is watching. Hapi inches closer to get a better look.</p>
<p>"I think I'm getting the idea," she says, "Let me try it."</p>
<p>"By all means," Constance answers, "You can undo the braid I have given you for sake of practicing."</p>
<p>"I think it would be easier for me to practice on your hair. It's longer."</p>
<p>"True!" She doesn't know why she feels so nervous. Her stomach flips at the suggestion. "Go right ahead."</p>
<p>"Turn around," says Hapi.</p>
<p>Constance turns around. Her skin crawls as she feels Hapi come behind her. Careful hands run through her hair, breaking up the braid. Constance closes her eyes, reveling in the feeling. Hapi continues to work. Both of them are strangely quiet, but Constance had never felt more at ease.</p>
<p>Then, Hapi accidentally pulls her hair a bit too roughly.</p>
<p>"Ah," Constance gasps, the sound coming out more pleasurable than intended. She immediately covers her mouth, quickly sent into a panic. Hopefully, Hapi didn't hear.</p>
<p>"What was that?" Hapi asks with a knowing tone.</p>
<p>Constance can see her smug grin without turning around. She refuses to look at the woman in fear of what she will have to admit if she does. "Nothing."</p>
<p>"I think it was something."</p>
<p>"It was nothing. I assure you. There is no reason to pursue the matter further."</p>
<p>"I think Coco just likes getting her hair pulled and doesn't want to admit it," Hapi teases her. She dares tug the woman's hair once more.</p>
<p>Constance clamps her hand over her mouth to keep from reacting. "Hapi, you have made your point. You may stop this at once."</p>
<p>"Are you admitting to being into it?"</p>
<p>"I will admit to no such thing,” she politely refuses.</p>
<p>Hapi laughs, "And you're a brat too."</p>
<p>That word ignites something in Constance that should have never been lit. She tries desperately to quell the feelings burning her alive. "Only for you."</p>
<p>"Oh, how wonderfully convenient for me!" Hapi rolls her eyes. "Anyway, this braid sucks. I'm gonna redo it now, so sit still."</p>
<p>Hapi dutifully goes back to braiding Constance's hair. At first, she seems unsure, creating a loose braid. She shakes her head, muttering to herself, and starting over. Her fingers work diligently to make sure not one strand is out of place. All the while, Constance sits perfectly still, gripping her own thigh tight. The feeling of Hapi's hands gently running through her hair is both cathartic and extremely stressful. She becomes increasingly aware of the lack of distance between them.</p>
<p>"And, done!" Hapi says, moving back to admire her work.</p>
<p>Constance feels a chill from the lack of body heat. "I can't really see it."</p>
<p>She reaches back to feel the braid. Indeed, it feels sturdy without too many loose strands. Hapi is a fast learner. Constance find herself thoroughly impressed </p>
<p>"Excellent job, Hapi! I'm very impressed with your work. You learn fast."</p>
<p>"Thank you," Hapi beams with pride. She sits down in front of her friend. "Now, do me again. Let's match."</p>
<p>"If you say so." Constance goes back to braiding once more.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Constance wasn't going to go home at all for the holidays, but the guilt of leaving her father alone on Christmas hung heavy over her conscience. What kind of daughter would leave her own father alone on Christmas? She knew her father would hold this against her if she missed it, so she takes the first bus out of the city. The change is scenery is nice. Instead of cities, Constance gets a pleasant view of open fields covered in snow. The long ride gives her time to let her mind wander.</p>
<p>Her home feels foreign to her as she steps in; it’s bigger than she remembers and much emptier. She drags her suitcase behind her. The wheels click against the hardwood flooring. Her bedroom is exactly how she left it, a guestroom with white walls and a plain hardwood floor. Few remnants of her high school life linger in the closet, her father probably too busy to throw them away. A single framed photo sits on the desk of her and her family. Constance can barely stand to look at it. Even the bedsheets have changed. Purple blankets have been switched for a plain white. The pillows are horribly flat. The mattress feels stiff. This is not how she remembers it at all.</p>
<p>“You got rid of my blankets,” Constance says at dinner, “Was there something wrong with them?”</p>
<p>Her father sits tall before her, separated by the length of the table. He takes a sip of his bourbon before answering. “You’ve always been a very colorful girl, Constance. Despite my better judgement, your mother always insisted we let you express yourself how you wanted. I played along while you were a child. Those blankets were a part of that. Now that you do not live here, I did not see use for such garish blankets to garnish the guestroom.”</p>
<p>“I like how I express myself.”</p>
<p>“All your theatrics will get you nowhere in life. The real world isn’t some circus for you to perform in. You are a grown woman. Stop playing pretend and start acting like an adult.”</p>
<p>“I am an adult, father. That’s why I’m working so hard.”</p>
<p>“I apologize,” he says gruffly, “I appreciate your efforts to better yourself even if those efforts may be a bit lacking at the moment.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Constance nods, ignoring the sickening feeling lingering in her stomach. She puts her focus into her food. Although, she does not feel hungry.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>“Coco! My favorite customer. I’ve been hoping you would call. It’s awfully boring without you around,” Hapi says over the phone, “How has your vacation been?”</p>
<p>“I would hardly categorize this trip as a vacation. Otherwise, it’s been fine. The same as always,” Constance answers timidly. She leans back in the chair, twirling the phone cord in her fingers. Her father’s office has the only phone in the house. As long as he is out for work, she can speak privately.</p>
<p>“Did you tell him the news yet?”</p>
<p>“Not yet. I haven’t had a good time to do so.”</p>
<p>“I think Christmas Eve is as good a time as ever to drop a bomb like that on your family.”</p>
<p>“I’ll tell him eventually. I’m just worried,” she says.</p>
<p>“Just remember, I have your back,” her friend assures her, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”</p>
<p>Her words provide little comfort for Constance. She still manages a smile even if the other woman cannot see it. “Thank you, Hapi. Your support means the world to me.”</p>
<p>“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable with it. It’s really not my business.”</p>
<p>“You can ask me anything. What is it?”</p>
<p>“I never hear you talk about your mom. Why is that?” Hapi asks.</p>
<p>Constance winces at the mention of her mother. She digs her nails into the leather of the chair. Her voice gets quiet. “She’s no longer with us. It was a terrible accident a few years ago.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Coco, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”</p>
<p>“No. It’s okay. It happened a while ago,” she says, “I’ve had plenty of time to remorse.”</p>
<p>“I still feel bad. I’ll make it up to you.”</p>
<p>“You’ve already done more than enough, Hapi. Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p>Her father comes home late that night. Constance is still awake. She sits by the stereo huddled in a blanket. Quiet music plays from the speakers. She was saddened to see her mother’s records gone. Instead, she gets stuck with a selection of classical music. Stravinsky keeps her company; she just needed the noise. A single lamp sheds light over her. The creaking of hardwood catches her attention. She turns around to see him.</p>
<p>“Dad?” She calls out into the blackness. An eerie shadow lingers in the doorway.</p>
<p>“It’s past midnight, Constance. Why are you still awake?” He asks, a single hand on the doorframe.</p>
<p>“I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas when you got home.”</p>
<p>“Merry Christmas, indeed. I’m glad I could spend it with what little family I have left.” He turns to leave, but Constance stops him.</p>
<p>“Dad, I need to tell you something,” she says quietly. She balls her fists into the soft blanket surrounding her.</p>
<p>“You’re not gay, are you?” He responds abruptly. His harsh tone cuts sharply into her.</p>
<p>“No!” Constance winces. “It’s about college.”</p>
<p>“Oh, god. You failed another semester, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>“No! I passed all my classes this time.” Barely.</p>
<p>“Then, what is it?” Her father asks firmly.</p>
<p>Constance hides herself in her blanket. She can barely bring herself to answer. Her breathing grows erratic, and she can feel herself losing control. “I want to drop out of college-“</p>
<p>“Is this some cruel joke? What would your mother think if she heard of this?”</p>
<p>Constance cringes at the mention of her mother. She pulls into herself. Still, she trudges on. “I’m not joking with you, but it’s not as bad as it seems. I promise. I do plan on going back to college eventually. Once I can figure out what I want to do with my life.”</p>
<p>“And what exactly do you plan on doing with your life? And don’t say become a theatre major. I will disown you from this family.” His words are firm.</p>
<p>“I don’t plan on becoming a theatre major. I wouldn’t dream of it; I assure you.” Constance grips tight to her blanket. The room starts to spin around her. “I’ll still work. I just need the summer to get back on my feet and figure myself out.”</p>
<p>“Figure yourself out?” He repeats her, “What is there to figure out? You already know what you’re doing with your life. I have everything laid out for you. You just need to do as I say.”</p>
<p>If only. Constance shakes her head. “There’s still many things I need to figure out for myself. My ambitions are too broad. I need time to narrow my options down. Maybe I’ll get an internship over the summer.”</p>
<p>“I will allow it, but I will only provide you minimal financial assistance provided you work full time,” her father says, “I will give you until the end of July. Not a day more.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, father.”</p>
<p>With that, he turns to leave, only granting her a brief goodbye. Then, she is alone once more.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>The bus station bustles with people. Constance holds her bag close. Her suitcase drags behind her. The crowds of people practically push her along. She stumbles out of the station and onto the sidewalk. To her surprise, she spots a familiar flash of red hair.</p>
<p>“Hapi?” Constance says when they make eye contact, “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>Hapi smiles at her. “Hey, Blondie. I heard you were coming home today.”</p>
<p>Constance crashes into her, wrapping her into a tight hug. She never wants to let go.</p>
<p>“I see you missed me,” Hapi comments. She hugs her back.</p>
<p>“Of course I missed you. I couldn’t stand being home. All my father does is ridicule me and glare at me like I’m some bug that needs to be squashed.”</p>
<p>“How dare he. That’s my job,” Hapi scoffs.</p>
<p>Constance pouts at her. “Hapi, please. I am being serious.“</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she says, “You know I think highly of you. I would rather die than hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Hapi.”</p>
<p>“Anytime.”</p>
<p>“So why exactly did you come meet me here?” Constance wonders, “This isn’t quite on the way to the record store.”</p>
<p>“I happened to be in the area, so I figured I might as well pay you a visit. It’s been a while.” Hapi shrugs.</p>
<p>“That’s very sweet of you.”</p>
<p>“You know me. Sweet as they get.”</p>
<p>“As much as I appreciate your company, I do need to get going. I have a suitcase to unpack,” Constance says, dragging her luggage closer. The winter weather is cold. She would prefer not to stand in it longer than necessary even if it means getting to talk to her friend. The snow starts to seep into her boots.</p>
<p>“Let me help you.” Her friend reaches for the suitcase.</p>
<p>“It’s just one suitcase. I’ll be fine. I assure you.”</p>
<p>“Let me help.”</p>
<p>“There is no need, Hapi. I can handle this on my own,” Constance insists. She maneuvers the suitcase away from the other woman.</p>
<p>“C’mon, Coco, I haven’t seen you in forever. I just want an excuse to walk with you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, um, okay.” Her words leave a fuzzy feeling in her chest. For just a brief moment, the cold is not a bother. She hands her the suitcase. “Would you be so kind as to help me with my bag?”</p>
<p>Hapi takes her luggage happily before doing a slight curtsy. “With pleasure, my lady.”</p>
<p>“Your lady?” The blonde is absolutely perplexed by the statement.</p>
<p>“I was trying to speak fancy like you do,” her friend replies.</p>
<p>“Ah. I see.”</p>
<p>“Do you like it? I can do it more.”</p>
<p>Constance isn’t sure if she can even handle more. “That is hardly necessary. I enjoy you the way you already are.”</p>
<p>They end up taking a cab as the streets are much too cold to walk. The cab driver mutters to himself as they sit in traffic. His window is open, and he leans halfway out of it to take a drag from his cigarette. Despite his efforts, the smell still wanders back into the car. Constance does her best to ignore it. The sour smell lingers on her nose.</p>
<p>“I was wondering if you had any plans for New Years,” Hapi asks nonchalantly. She stares out the window at the traffic outside.</p>
<p>Normally, Constance would spend her New Year’s Eve with Mercedes. However this year, her family decided to visit family out of state, taking Mercedes with them. This leaves Constance hopelessly alone for the holiday. It never occurred to her that she could spend it with other people.</p>
<p>“I do not,” she answers, trying to gauge where the conversation is taking them, “Why do you ask?”</p>
<p>“I was hoping you could hang out with me on New Year’s. I was gonna invite my other friend. It would be a good opportunity for you two to meet. If that’s something you want to do,” Hapi offers.</p>
<p>“It’s certainly better than spending it alone. I’m curious to meet your other friends.” Constance can only imagine the type of people Hapi hangs out with.</p>
<p>“Oh, you’ll get along just swell.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>and here is where things start to get interesting &gt;:3<br/>anyway i hope u all have a wonderful day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New Year’s Eve comes a few days later. Constance finds herself looking forward to it. She takes the opportunity to dress up. Hapi closes up shop early. Few people want to go shopping after Christmas, meaning business has been horribly slow as expected. But Hapi won’t let that get in the way of having a good time. Constance helps clean up, sweeping the floors while Hapi closes the register. Dust coats the floor, a normal part of working in a record store. Old records are not complete without a coat of dust, and unfortunately, that means more time spent sweeping. It seems to be a fruitless effort, but Constance likes feeling helpful.</p>
<p>Long shadows stretch across the floors as the sun sets. The music plays on. Constance hums along as she works. Soon, night has fallen over the city. The streets grow busy with partygoers as it gets closer to midnight.</p>
<p>Then, comes that familiar ring. Heavy footsteps hit the floor. Constance turns around to see who it could be. She first notices tall chunky boots covered in paint. Then tattered jeans with more holes than fabric. She looks up to see a smiling person with tattoos peeking out from under their shirt. Their jacket is too big for them, and their purple hair screams for attention, matching their purple eyeshadow. Constance catches herself staring. As garish as they look, they do not seem threatening at all. In fact, Constance actually likes it. They give the woman a quick look over before turning to Hapi.</p>
<p>“Hapi!” They open their arms to hug her. Hapi skips over to embrace them. Her friend is just barely taller than she is by a mere couple of centimeters. Constance feels a ping of jealousy in her stomach. She ignores it as best she can.</p>
<p>“Hey, Yuri,” the woman greets them with an uncharacteristic cheerfulness.</p>
<p>When Yuri pulls away, they frown and run a hand through Hapi’s hair. “Man, you’ve really let yourself go. This is so faded I can see the bleach again.”</p>
<p>“I was planning on calling you about it soon.”</p>
<p>“Were you?” They respond pointedly, “It seems you never call me anymore unless you want more weed.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of.” Hapi flutters her eyelashes at them. “Did you-“</p>
<p>“Of course I did, dummy.” Yuri pulls a small plastic bag out of their pocket and quickly slides it back out of sight.</p>
<p>Constance watches the two, broom still in hand. She has no idea what to make of this person. Then, Yuri looks up, eyes locking with hers. She feels them studying her closely. They furrow their brow in thought, tapping their chin before coming to a conclusion.</p>
<p>“Who’s the pretty woman?” Yuri asks with a tone that only means trouble. They shove their hands in their pockets and wait for an answer. Hapi hesitates, seeming to choose her next words carefully. Constance catches a dull blush upon her face. She thinks nothing of it.</p>
<p>“This is Constance.” Hapi motions for her to come over. “She’s a friend.”</p>
<p>The introduction felt lacking. Constance could think of a million better way to introduce herself. Perhaps ‘best friend’ or at the very least, ‘most valued customer’ would suffice. She decides to ignore it for now.</p>
<p>“A friend, huh?” Yuri is not buying it. They shoot a skeptical glance at Hapi. “I’ve never seen you friendly with women before, Hapi. I’m glad to see you’re branching out.”</p>
<p>Hapi jabs them in the side and shoots them a glare. Yuri laughs.</p>
<p>“Speaking of being friendly with women,” Hapi says, a smug grin on her face, “How are your three girlfriends? The ones that love to smoke weed?”</p>
<p><i>Three Girlfriends?</i> Constance nearly drops her broom. She fumbles with it before gripping it tight to her chest. No one seems to notice.</p>
<p>Yuri gives Hapi a pained look. “Never again, Hapi. We will <i>never</i> speak of that again.”</p>
<p>They quickly shake off their discomfort and turn back to Constance who is still incredibly befuddled.</p>
<p>“Constance, was it? I’m Yuri.” They hold their hand out to her. Constance continues staring at them, unable to find words. Cautiously, she takes their hand. Their sleeve rides up, revealing the beginning of a tattoo. Their grip is firm and lasts a moment too long, but Constance does not mind. Their hand feels incredibly soft. She finds the urge to ask them about their skincare routine, but a more important question presses at her.</p>
<p>“How do you know Hapi?” She asks.</p>
<p>“How do I know Hapi?” They respond with a frown, looking to their friend with utter disappointment, “Hapi, we’ve been friends since middle school. How have you not mentioned me even once?”</p>
<p>“Words can’t begin to describe the greatness that is you, Yuribird,” Hapi cuts in, throwing an arm around her friend to save her own skin. She then addresses Constance who is still incredibly confused. “I caught them smoking weed under the bleachers at a pep rally, and they invited me to join. We both got detention. They’ve been my dealer ever since.”</p>
<p>“I prefer the term ‘best friend’, but okay.” Yuri narrows their eyes at her. They pretend to act offended but cannot help but smile.</p>
<p>“Enough talk. We’ve got work to do.”</p>
<p>Hapi motions toward the back. Yuri follows along happily. They kick off their boots and throw their bag onto the table as if they have done this many times before. The contents spill onto the table in front of them. They shuffle through their belongings until they find exactly what they need. Namely, a bag of a green substance and some paper. It is all too familiar to Constance. Yuri pulls up a chair to the small table and sits down. They focus on their work, biting their tongue in concentration.</p>
<p>“Where’s your bong? Last I checked, I left it with you,” Hapi asks, fiddling with the stereo system.</p>
<p>“Ashe has it,” they sigh, “I left it at his place.”</p>
<p>“He lets you smoke at his place?”</p>
<p>“No, I brought it over once because I was smoking before with some friends and left it there on accident,” they huff, more annoyed with themselves than anyone else, “He says he won’t give it back until I take him on a date.”</p>
<p>“And you haven’t yet? Aren’t you two dating?”</p>
<p><i>Dating?</i> Constance tries her best to process this person’s love life. A boyfriend? Three girlfriends? Weed? Although the girlfriends seemed to be a single incident. Still. What the hell is this Yuri figure getting up to? Constance feels a headache coming on as she tries to make sense of it all.</p>
<p>“Listen, Hapi, taking Ashe on a date is hard. It needs to be perfect. He deserves the best. A simple coffee shop won’t do,” Yuri says.</p>
<p>“It shouldn’t be too hard to take someone on a date, Yuribird. Besides, aren’t you the one with posh tastes?” Hapi responds.</p>
<p>“I do not have posh tastes. I am a luxury few can afford. If I take Ashe on a date, it needs to be up to my standards because that is what he deserves. Nothing less.”</p>
<p>“Just take the man on his damn date. I want my bong back.”</p>
<p>“Sure thing, Hapi.” They smirk at her, eyes drifting toward Constance. “Maybe you should do the same.”</p>
<p>They finish rolling a joint and put it in their mouth. Hapi pulls a lighter out of her pocket. It flicks on, making a small flame. Yuri leans in, lighting the joint. A small trail of smoke floats up into the air. They breathe it in and let out a happy sigh. The smell attacks Constance. She coughs quietly, trying to hold it in to act polite for their guest.</p>
<p>“Constance, do you want to try?” Yuri holds out the joint to her. “If it’s from me, you know it’s going to be good.”</p>
<p>“I’ll try it,” Constance answers nervously. She’s done this before. She can do it again. It’s not hard. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself.</p>
<p>“That’s the spirit!”</p>
<p>Hapi turns to watch her, a proud grin on her face. With a shaky hand, Constance takes the joint and holds it between her fingers. The bitter taste assaults her mouth. She immediately regrets her life decisions leading up to this moment. She breathes in more. Nope. Too much. Way too much. Yuri grins. Hapi holds back a laugh, finding her misfortune endearing. Constance burns up. The redhead sits down on the couch next to her and takes the joint from her hands. She takes a long hit before turning back to Yuri.</p>
<p>“By the way, is Ashe coming?” Hapi asks them.</p>
<p>“He will eventually.” Yuri waves their hand dismissively. “Long night at the studio. You know how he is. Needs to take the same picture twenty times to get it perfect.”</p>
<p>Constance feels the room start to spin around her. She shakes it off, but everything still feels slower. Much slower. The conversation starts to drown itself out no matter how hard she tries to focus. How is this happening? Wait. <i>Wait</i>. She starts to tip over. Hapi pushes her back up.</p>
<p>“So, Hapi,” Yuri starts, leaning in to show their interest, “Why haven’t you told me about your girl yet?”</p>
<p>Her girl? Constance strangely likes the sound of that. It makes her feel important.</p>
<p>Hapi tenses up. “I always forget to bring her up when we talk.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Yuri’s voice has a hint of suspicion to it. They lean in to grab the joint from her. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing more of her. She seems like a good match for you.”</p>
<p>Hapi does not answer, so Constance conveniently does. She pipes up, putting an arm around her friend, “I think we work well together.”</p>
<p>“I think so too!” Yuri agrees, “You should get married.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t be opposed to that!”</p>
<p>Before Hapi dies of embarrassment, the familiar bell signals a newcomer. The door clicks shut and light steps skip toward them. The door to the back room opens to reveal the exact opposite of what Constance was expecting Yuri’s boyfriend to look like. Instead of goth black and torn jeans, the man before her wears loose shirt covered in sunflowers. His tight pants tuck neatly into tall boots that make him tower over Constance.</p>
<p>He smiles brightly when he sees his friends, particularly his partner. He marches over to Yuri and sits on their lap. Constance cannot get over how broad his shoulders are.</p>
<p>“Hi, Yuri.” He kisses them on the cheek before turning to everyone else. “Hello Hapi and, uh, oh. <i>Oh</i>.”</p>
<p>He locks onto Constance. Fear strikes her heart.</p>
<p>“Who’s the pretty woman?” he gasps, hopping off Yuri’s lap.</p>
<p>He slides onto the couch next to her and takes her by the hands. He looks her up and down intently.</p>
<p>“I’m Constance,” she answers, not sure how to feel.</p>
<p>“I’m Ashe. Hold still for a second.” He holds up a camera and snaps a picture. The click of the camera startles the woman. Her reaction is delayed as she blinks a second after.</p>
<p>“You’re just so pretty,” he continues, “I would love to take some pictures of you at my studio sometime. Are you a model by chance?”</p>
<p>“Not even close.”</p>
<p>“You should look into that. You’re very pretty. Much prettier than any of my models and almost as pretty as my partner.”</p>
<p>“What about you? Are you a model?” Constance asks back, finding herself pleasantly overwhelmed by the flattery, “You’re also very pretty. I love your freckles.”</p>
<p>She brings up her hand to lightly caress his cheek, running her thumb over the pattern of freckles dotting his skin. He’s probably the prettiest man she has ever seen. She admires his hands for a moment. His nails are painted a light purple to match his outfit (and Constance assumes to match Yuri as well). His skin is incredibly soft, maybe even softer than Yuri’s.</p>
<p>“I am a model, actually.” Ashe grins. “Thanks for asking.”</p>
<p>“How am I not surprised?”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m surprised you’re not a model! I mean look at those curls! Are those natural?” He gently brushes his hand through her hair. “Are you a natural blonde as well?”</p>
<p>She blushes at the compliment. “I am.”</p>
<p>“Have you ever thought about dyeing it? I think a purple accent underneath would really bring out your eyes.”</p>
<p>“You really think so? I’ve never dyed my hair before.”</p>
<p>“Once you try it, you’ll never want to go back. I’m trying out silver right now, and I think I really like it.”</p>
<p>“You could make any color work,” Constance says.</p>
<p>“So could you!” Ashe replies with equal enthusiasm.</p>
<p>They go back and forth complimenting every aspect of their being. Their joyful chatter fills the room. Yuri and Hapi watch in shock. They have no idea what to do about the two. They decide to let it happen, passing the joint back and forth as they watch. It disappears between them quickly.</p>
<p>“Are you two done flirting yet?” Hapi asks.</p>
<p>“Hapi!” Ashe calls to her finally, “Don’t worry. I’ll save all the flirting for you. I love your girlfriend. She’s adorable.”</p>
<p>“Girlfriend?”</p>
<p>Constance smiles, still riding off the high of being praised. “You heard him. I’m adorable.”</p>
<p>Hapi burns up. “I’ve kept you around this long. I don’t plan on getting rid of you anytime soon.”</p>
<p>“Good,” the blonde says, leaning back into her, “Because I’m not leaving.”</p>
<p>“You two are so cute.” Ashe holds his hand over his heart. “Not as cute as Yuri, but still cute.”</p>
<p>He snaps another picture before getting up to see his partner. He sits down on the Yuri’s lap. They settle down a bit, just enjoying the company and more importantly the weed. Smoke fills the room. Quiet music sets the backdrop.</p>
<p>With Constance accustomed to Hapi’s odd pair of friends, the night goes by smoothly. Per Ashe’s request, they change up the music to sing along. Constance tentatively tests out her singing voice while Ashe cheers her on. Soon, she is belting Whitney Houston at the top of her lungs without a care in the world. Yuri refuses to sing along no matter how many times Ashe begs them.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” Ashe says, “Everyone knows this song. I know you know all the words.”</p>
<p>Yuri shakes their head. “I don’t wanna sing. I’m tired and much too high.”</p>
<p>“But you have such a beautiful singing voice.” Ashe tugs on their arm. “Constance needs to hear it. Do it for her! Do it for me.”</p>
<p>“I would love to hear it!” Constance agrees enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“Me too,” Hapi adds in to Yuri’s distaste. They shoot her a glare.</p>
<p>They all look at them expectantly. Ashe leans into them and nudges them annoyingly until they respond.</p>
<p>“Fine,” they huff, “But only one song, so choose it well.”</p>
<p>Hapi puts herself in charge of choosing the perfect song. This, of course, is the one and only good Four Non Blondes song, What’s Up. The song begins, and everyone joins in. Even Yuri. To Constance’s surprise, their voice is heavenly. It takes them a moment to get comfortable, but with everyone else singing along, they quickly find their footing. They all sway along to the beat of the music. Ashe pulls Yuri along into a dance. One song turns into two. Then another and another. After their group singalong, Hapi checks her watch.</p>
<p>“Shit. It’s almost midnight,” she says.</p>
<p>“Why would that- oh.” Yuri realizes. “I completely forgot it’s the new year.”</p>
<p>“Happy New Year!” Ashe cheers.</p>
<p>“Not yet,” says Hapi, “Two more minutes.”</p>
<p>Constance joins him, throwing an arm around her new friend. “Happy New Year!”</p>
<p>“Guys, one more minute.”</p>
<p>“Who cares? Time is relative anyway, right?” Ashe responds.</p>
<p>“Fair enough.” Hapi shrugs. “Happy fucking new year! I love you guys.”</p>
<p>“Ah, Hapi, I love you too!” Constance cheers.</p>
<p>Ashe grabs Yuri by the collar and pulls them in for a kiss. Constance, not wanting to feel left out, suddenly feels the urge to do the same. She strategically positions herself close to Hapi, hoping to psychically convey her message. Hapi seems to receive the message loud and clear. She snakes an arm around Constance’s neck and pulls her closer.</p>
<p>“We can’t let them have all the fun,” Hapi whispers. She presses her lips to Constance’s. A fire swells up in her chest.</p>
<p>When they let go, Constance immediately notices the other two staring at them intently. Yuri grins with pure delight. “Oh, you two are <i>dating</i> dating!”</p>
<p>“No,” Hapi argues, “I’m like this with all my friends. Come on, dude. We used to kiss all the time. Come here.”</p>
<p>She walks over to Yuri and kisses them right on the lips. They blink in disbelief, but allow it to happen. Then. Ashe gets the same treatment. Although, he seems much more enthusiastic about it. He pulls her closer, making sure to leave her lips swollen.</p>
<p>“I like the affectionate side of Hapi,” he says.</p>
<p>With the New Year upon them, it comes time for their two friends to leave.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you around, Hapi.” Yuri gives their friend a tight hug. “And make sure you bring Constance around more often. I would love to get to know her better.”</p>
<p>“I will. I promise,” Hapi answers.</p>
<p>Ashe takes Constance’s hands. “I’ll miss you, but we’ll definitely hang out soon. Here’s my number.”</p>
<p>He scribbles his information onto a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to her. Constance slides it in her pocket. The two partners wave goodbye. The bell rings as the door closes behind them. Hapi locks the door behind them. Constance yawns as life catches up to her. The store is suddenly quiet. With the excitement over, the adrenaline runs out quickly. Exhaustion starts to take over, and she can barely keep her eyes open.</p>
<p>“Are we sleeping here, then?” Constance asks.</p>
<p>“Yes,” the redhead answers with a nod, “It’s for your safety. Obviously.”</p>
<p>“My safety, huh?” The other woman laughs. Not that she minds staying the night.</p>
<p>“I would hate for you to get caught in the snow again. You remember what happened last time.”</p>
<p>“But you’ll let Yuri and Ashe go fend for themselves in the cold?”</p>
<p>“They’re not as pretty as you,” Hapi says, “Besides, maybe I just want you to myself.”</p>
<p>“Why would you want that?” Constance wonders.</p>
<p>“No reason in particular. I just like you.”</p>
<p>The record skips off, making the room even quieter. Hapi flicks off the main light, leaving only the light from a small lamp and the two candles on the coffee table. They crackle from excess use, slowly melting into oblivion. Empty bags line the table. Hapi swipes them up and hides the evidence in the trashcan. Constance plops down on the couch. Immediately, a wave of tiredness hits her. She feels heavy. Her entire body refuses to budge. Hapi joins her, also hit with the sudden exhaustion.</p>
<p>“Hey, Hapi,” Constance yawns.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Her friend mumbles in response, already half-asleep.</p>
<p>“When’s your birthday?”</p>
<p>“January 15th,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Are you serious?” Constance shoots right up, suddenly wide awake. “That’s just over two weeks from now. How could you not tell me this?”</p>
<p>“It never came up.” Hapi pulls her back down.</p>
<p>“You’re my friend! I think I deserve to know when your birthday is.”</p>
<p>“Well, now you do.”</p>
<p>“Are we going to celebrate it together?” Constance asks.</p>
<p>“I don’t see why not. Usually I get together with my usual crew,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Your ‘usual crew’? Who would that be?”</p>
<p>“Yuri and Ashe. I don’t really have any other friends.”</p>
<p>“I did quite enjoy Ashe’s company,” Constance mentions, “I look forward to getting another chance to spend time with him again.”</p>
<p>“You two got along too well. It was almost scary.”</p>
<p>“In a good way or a bad way?”</p>
<p>“A great way,” Hapi replies, “I’m glad you like my friends.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of friends,” Constance says, suddenly remembering her own, “I have a friend I would like you to meet as well. Since we’re at that stage in our friendship.”</p>
<p>“Oh, do you?” Hapi sounds intrigued despite the obvious tiredness layering her voice.</p>
<p>“Perhaps she could come to your birthday outing. If that’s okay with you, of course.”</p>
<p>“I would love for her to come.”</p>
<p>“Really? I think you and Mercedes will get along swimmingly.”</p>
<p>“Swimmingly, huh? I can’t wait.” Hapi stretches out on the couch. Her eyes droop, and she lets out a loud yawn. Both women are too tired to continue the conversation.</p>
<p>Constance opens her eyes. “Oh, Hapi, one more thing-“</p>
<p>“Go to bed.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>The next couple of weeks go by quietly. Being out of college, Constance has too much time on her hands. Her part time job is not enough money to maintain a regular lifestyle. No matter how much she asks, her manager conveniently forgets to schedule her for more days. Her savings runs lower by the day. Luckily, Mercedes brings her food to make sure she eats. With classes over, her friend has much more time to randomly show up in her apartment against Constance’s will. However, she secretly enjoys her visits as she always makes a point to bring freshly baked cookies.</p>
<p>Constance takes a seat at her table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. A few nearby places are hiring. A second job is a necessity with her father ready to cut ties with her at any given moment. She could be a waitress or perhaps a cashier. She loves subjecting herself to the torture that is customer service as does every other adult in their 20s. She circles a few advertisements for later. Although, none of them strike her as appealing. Minimum wage jobs never are. Usually, she spends her summers as a barista. Her memories drift back to all the time she spent pent up behind the counter grinding coffee beans and making tea. She can practically smell the roasted coffee beans. Suddenly, her phone rings, pulling her from her daydream.</p>
<p>“Hey, girl!” A familiar voice shouts as soon as she picks up the phone.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ashe,” Constance greets him back. “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“I was wondering if you had plans for next Saturday.”</p>
<p>“Next Saturday? What day is that?”</p>
<p>“The sixteenth.”</p>
<p>Constance almost forgot all about it. She curses herself under her breath for being a bad friend. “I was hoping to see Hapi that day. Why do you ask?”</p>
<p>“Hapi is exactly what all this is about!” Ashe explains, “It’s her special day, so I’m having everyone over at my place for a nice home cooked meal.”</p>
<p>“A home cooked meal?” Constance’s stomach grumbles at those words.</p>
<p>“Yeah! I love cooking for friends. Yuri’s gonna be there. We all eat together like a family.”</p>
<p>“That sounds really nice. I actually know someone who would love to help you cook if you would be so kind as to allow me to bring a plus one to this party.”</p>
<p>“Last time I checked, Hapi doesn’t cook.”</p>
<p>Constance narrows her eyes although he cannot see her. “I do have other friends, Ashe.”</p>
<p>“I know. I know. Who is this friend?”</p>
<p>“Mercedes,” she answers, “She’s been my best friend since forever, and she would kill me if I don’t let her meet you guys at least once. You’ll love her.”</p>
<p>“If she’s anything like you, I’m sure we’ll get along perfectly. You can bring anyone you want,” he says happily, “Especially Hapi.”</p>
<p>“I mean, I would hope Hapi would come to her own birthday party.”</p>
<p>“She is, but you’re in charge of making sure she gets there. Sometimes she likes to butt out in the last second. Don’t let her. Even if it means bringing her against her will.”</p>
<p>“I will perform my duty to your utmost satisfaction even if that means using illegal measures. You have my word.”</p>
<p>“Perfect! I’ll see you then! And wear something nice!”</p>
<p>The phone clicks as he hands up. Constance puts the phone back on the receiver. Then, it hits her. She hasn’t gotten Hapi a gift yet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>gonna post the next chapter tomorrow &gt;:3 we love chaos<br/>anyway heres my <a href="https://twitter.com/_vulpixel">twitter</a> if u feel the urge to cyberbully me :P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is where the ball really gets rolling</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Constance’s next stop is the record store. She shows up early to see Hapi. The store has a couple customers roaming around. One brushes past her as she walks in. Another stands by the counter purchasing a stack of records. Constance waits patiently for the man to step aside before approaching. Hapi smiles at her when she walks up.</p>
<p>“Happy birthday, Hapi!” Constance pulls her into a tight hug.</p>
<p>Hapi squeezes her back. They remain embraced for what feels like forever. Finally, her friend breaks the hug.</p>
<p>“I almost forgot. I got you something,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“You got <i>me</i> something? It’s your birthday. Not mine. You didn’t need to get me anything.”</p>
<p>“Shut up. It’s my birthday. I make the rules, and I wanted to give you a gift.” She digs around behind the counter trying to remember where she hid it. Random items spill out of the drawers. Finally, she surfaces with a small box. She hands it to Constance gingerly.</p>
<p>“A tape?” Constance closely examines the cassette in her hands. “A mixtape? Hapi, that’s so cute!”</p>
<p>The tape is in a clear case with a label on top. Constance’s name is scrawled on the sticker in black marker. The tape itself is a light purple with each track written on the back by hand. Each song is one of Constance’s favorites. Others she recognizes as Hapi’s favorite songs. It’s a perfect balance between the two. She can tell the gift had a lot of effort put into it. Hapi spent a long time on this.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Hapi explains, scratching at her wrist lightly, “You like music, and you’re always listening to your Walkman, so I thought I’d make that for you. So you could have something to listen to and maybe think of me when you’re away. Uh, Yuri got you something too.”</p>
<p>She hands the woman a bag labelled “this is weed –love, Yuri”. Constance holds it in her hands, not sure what to think of it.</p>
<p>“They’re very subtle, aren’t they?” She stares at the package, slightly distraught.</p>
<p>“They thought you might think it was something else if they didn’t label it properly.”</p>
<p>“I see. May I ask why they wanted to randomly gift me with marijuana?”</p>
<p>“You were having fun last week, so they thought you would like it,” Hapi explains, “They had good intentions. Promise.”</p>
<p>“It’s the thought that counts, I guess. Tell them I said thank you,” Constance responds, still a bit dazed from the whole ordeal. Where does she even put this? She doesn’t even own a bong. She hides it away in her coat for now only to forget it later.</p>
<p>“I will.” Her friend promises.</p>
<p>Constance hugs her again. “And thank you for the tape. I’ll listen to it as soon as I can.”</p>
<p>Hapi burns up, heat radiating off her. Her voice gets quieter. “We could listen to it together sometime too. It would be a nice birthday present.”</p>
<p>“That sounds like a great idea.” The blonde smiles at her. She fidgets with the cassette in her hands.</p>
<p>Hapi tries to find words to answer. Constance catches a slight blush on the other woman’s face. “That’s great. I’ll look forward to it.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” Constance perks up. “I almost forgot- Do you want to go out to dinner with me?”</p>
<p>“Go out with you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah! Ashe invited me to his place for dinner for your birthday. He’s cooking. Mercedes is coming too. I mean, I would hope you’re coming to your own birthday party. He sent me here to make sure you would go,” she says.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Is all Hapi says. She seems a bit dazes, and it has Constance slightly worried.</p>
<p>“You sound disappointed.” Constance tilts her head to the side. “Not your idea of a good night? Is Ashe a bad cook?”</p>
<p>“No! Ashe is a great cook.” Hapi assures her. “Sorry. I’m just a bit out of it today. Didn’t sleep well. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s a good thing you reminded me about my own birthday party. Otherwise, I would have missed it.”</p>
<p>“Aww, Hapi,” her friend pulls her into another hug, “It’s okay. That’s why you have me!”</p>
<p>Hapi hugs her back. “Thanks, Constance. You’re the best.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>The two women wait for their esteemed guest at the record store. All the while, they play around, blasting music and causing a ruckus. Mercedes, as always, arrives fashionably late. The two perk up when the door swings open. Mercedes stands in the doorway bustling with energy. She wears high-waisted jeans with a tight turtleneck sweater and a short boot. She looks more ready for church than a party. Still, even while dressed so modestly, the woman can make anything look sexy. Constance will be the first to admit it. She finds herself staring. She quickly averts her eyes only to see Hapi do quite the opposite.</p>
<p>“Constance!” Mercedes yells, throwing her hands up in the air.</p>
<p>Her friend matches her enthusiasm. “Mercedes!”</p>
<p>They run toward each other and smash together in a tight embrace. Mercedes takes her smaller friend and lifts her in her arms. It looks like a scene out of a movie. Hapi watches it in slow motion.</p>
<p>“I missed you so much. Never leave me again.” Mercedes squeezes Constance tighter.</p>
<p>“I missed you too.”</p>
<p>With the formalities out of the way, Mercedes turns her attention to Hapi. “Now, this is who I really came to see. Is this the elusive Hapi I’ve heard so much about?”</p>
<p>“First of all, that hurt,” Constance answers, “Second of all, yes. This is Hapi. She owns the record store.”</p>
<p>Mercedes stares at her a moment. “She looks different than I thought she would be.”</p>
<p>“What were you thinking she was going to look like?”</p>
<p>“Older.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Hapi pipes up, “I’m only twenty four.”</p>
<p>“Ah, never mind that.” Mercedes quickly changes subject. She reaches out to take Hapi’s hand. “So you’re Hapi. You seem like an absolutely wonderful person, and I must say, you are <i>exactly</i> Constance’s type.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Hapi perks up an eyebrow. “And what exactly would her type be?”</p>
<p>“Taller, muscular, hot. But I never thought she would be into redheads.” Mercedes runs her hand through the other woman’s hair. “I can see why she would be. This color looks gorgeous on you.”</p>
<p>“That is such an accurate description of me.” Hapi looks to Constance with a goofy grin. “You really think I’m hot?”</p>
<p>“From an outsider’s perspective, yes. You have many attractive features. Anyone with eyes would find you hot.” Constance turns a deep shade of red. Her entire body burns hot as lava. She slaps Mercedes’ shoulder hard. “I think you’ve given Hapi quite enough information.”</p>
<p>Mercedes smiles sweetly. “It’s not my fault you’ve always had a thing for-”</p>
<p>“Mercedes, if you finish that sentence I will end your life.” Constance glares at her.</p>
<p>Her friend gives her a cheeky grin, not regretting a single word she just said. Hapi watches concernedly, not sure if she should cut in.</p>
<p>“As much as I would love to see where this is going, we need to get going if we want to catch the bus.” She finally eases the tension between the two.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>The bus is late as always, stranding the women in the cold winter weather. The three women huddle at the bus stop like a flock of penguins trying to stay warm. A gust of wind blows down the street sending a chill down Constance’s spine. Snow starts to flutter down, dotting the sidewalk. Constance wishes she brought a better jacket. No matter how warm she dresses, the weather only seems to get colder. Her eyes fall to Hapi who looks warm and comfortable in her winter coat. Constance leans in close, wanting all the body heat she can get. Mercedes squishes into her, forcing her into the other woman.</p>
<p>“Are you two cold?” Hapi asks, noticing the two woman leaning against her.</p>
<p>“Constance doesn’t do well with the cold,” Mercedes says, “Usually, I’ll hold her hands to keep them warm.”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t they be warmer if she kept them in her pockets instead?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but I like having an excuse to hold her hands.”</p>
<p>“Fair point.” Hapi nods. She looks down at Constance. “Do you want to hold my hands?”</p>
<p>Suddenly, the cold is not nearly as much of a problem. Constance answers quietly, “Yes, please.”</p>
<p>The bus screeches to a stop in front of them before they can complete the act. Constance curses under her breath. The other half of her is grateful to get some shelter from the terrible weather.</p>
<p>They travel up to the nicer part of the city. The sidewalks have less cracks and are properly plowed. Even the roads have less potholes. The buildings look newer and well kept. Hapi points out Ashe’s apartment complex. The building stands tall over the city, surrounded by a gate. Stone arches sit at each side of the gate. Hapi leads the way to a small nook next to the gate. A small panel hangs on the wall under a small roof. She runs her finger down the list of names, stopping at Ashe’s. She presses the button to ring for their friend, and the panel crackles to life.</p>
<p>“Coco? Is that my new best friend?” A scratchy voice plays over the speaker.</p>
<p>“It’s Hapi, actually,” the woman corrects him.</p>
<p>“Hapi! Ah, same thing. You two are a package deal anyway!” They can all hear the excitement in Ashe’s voice. “Come on up!”</p>
<p>A lock clicks, and they are allowed inside. The gate swings open slowly. The women walk along the sidewalk toward the complex.</p>
<p>“I can only dream about living somewhere like this.” Constance gawks at the building. “There’s so many cars. And garages. I feel like I haven’t seen a garage in forever.”</p>
<p>“If you had a roommate you could probably afford something like this,” Hapi hums.</p>
<p>“I know exactly who you could have as a roommate.” Mercedes nudges her friend. “And I’ll come to visit.”</p>
<p>Constance jabs her back harder, shooting her a quick glare. Luckily, Hapi seems to have not heard her. Either that or she is wonderfully skilled at pretending not to listen. The thought terrifies Constance.</p>
<p>Once inside, Constance can finally start to thaw. The lobby is small with only two staircases and elevators. A lone woman sits behind a desk talking on the phone in a glass office. She ignores them as they walk past to the elevator. Hapi presses the button to go up. The arrow lights, and the elevator slides down. A bell rings, and the door opens. A couple passengers walk out, leaving the elevator empty for them. They squeeze in and wait for their floor.</p>
<p>Constance prepares herself for the big reveal of Ashe’s apartment. What could he possibly be hiding in there? She imagines a luxurious apartment with a television, a patio, maybe a life-sized Victorian style portrait of himself on the wall. No. He’s not the type to do so. But Yuri is. Her mind spins with ridiculous ideas.</p>
<p>Her thoughts are interrupted by the elevator ding. The doors slide open to reveal a long hallway. Nothing out of the ordinary. Hapi takes Constance by the arm and leads them down the hall. Mercedes takes Constance’s other arm, trapping her in a sandwich between the two women. Ashe’s door sits at the very end. Instead of Ashe, Yuri opens the door in his stead. They greet them wearing a purple bathrobe and a glass of wine in hand.</p>
<p>“Happy birthday Hapi! I see you brought your gal pal with you and yet another person I have yet to meet.” They invite the group inside. The robe slips slightly off their shoulder, revealing more of their chest. It is surprisingly smooth. Constance averts her gaze upward but finds herself struggling to do so. Their chest is so smooth. Constance cannot avert her eyes no matter how much she wants to.</p>
<p>“Dude.” Hapi shields her eyes. “Please tell me you’re wearing something under that.”</p>
<p>“We said dress comfortable, Hapi,” Yuri huffs, “This is as comfortable as it gets without shedding another layer.”</p>
<p>Constance can’t fight it anymore. Her eyes slip back down. The robe gives her the perfect view of their chest with all of their tattoos. It’s an elegant display of flowers and birds. Constance now understands where the nickname comes from. She catches sight of a dainty butterfly tattoo mostly hidden by the robe. Curiosity gets the better of her. She opens her mouth to ask about it, but another voice interrupts.</p>
<p>“Yuri? Did you seriously answer the door in your bathrobe?” Ashe calls from inside.</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Yuri answers back.</p>
<p>Ashe appears in the doorway, pushing his partner aside. “I already told you to put something else on before they got here! Go change into some real clothes.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” they whine. They step back inside.</p>
<p>With Yuri taken care of, Ashe turns back to the group. “Come on in! Let’s get this party started!”</p>
<p>With that, the party begins. The group heads inside.</p>
<p>The apartment is spacious but cluttered, far from what Constance was expecting. It looks well lived in, with various decorations and belongings scattered about. A variety of potted plants sits by the window. A small pot of basil sits on the kitchen wall. It smells wonderful. Framed photos cover the wall, Constance assumes taken by Ashe. Despite the clutter, it does not feel cramped. In fact, it feels comfortable like a warm night by the fireplace. Constance immediately feels at home. She curiously looks around. She can easily pick out what belongs to Yuri. A trashy jacket hangs over the kitchen barstool. Other discreet evidence of Yuri lies around.</p>
<p>“Is this your friend?” Ashe eyes Mercedes excitedly. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting her.”</p>
<p>“This is Mercedes,” Constance introduces them. “Mercedes, this is my friend, Ashe who is also Hapi’s friend and Yuri’s boyfriend.”</p>
<p>“Mercedes!” The man opens his arms to pull her into a warm hug. “You’re beautiful! Constance never told me all her friends are so gorgeous.”</p>
<p>The woman immediately picks up his energy. She squeezes him tight with a bear hug, lifting him off the ground slightly. “You too! You’re so nice.”</p>
<p>“Constance, I love your friends.”</p>
<p>Hapi crosses her arms. “He’s never been like this with me.”</p>
<p>“You’re not exactly a hugger, Hapi,” Ashe reasons.</p>
<p>“Fair enough. I bite.” She grins mischievously.</p>
<p>“I’m into that,” Mercedes says.</p>
<p>“Mercie, was that comment truly necessary?” Constance asks, turning red at the thought.</p>
<p>“It absolutely was. Just because you won’t admit to it doesn’t mean I can’t.”</p>
<p>After Mercedes and Ashe become best friends, the room calms down a bit. Hapi makes herself comfortable on the couch while the rest mingle in the kitchen. Mercedes and Constance sit on the barstools admiring the fancy kitchen.  Neither of them have ever seen so much cooking equipment in one place before. Everything is top of the line. Constance feels jealous, not that she ever cooks anyway.</p>
<p>“Constance!” Ashe gasps dramatically, “It’s Hapi’s birthday which means we gotta celebrate with drinks. I know you’re not legal yet, but don’t tell anyone.”</p>
<p>“I’m 22,” Constance responds.</p>
<p>“Wait, really?”</p>
<p>“Yes. How old did you think I was?”</p>
<p>“Uh, nineteen. But let’s not worry about that anymore. You still need a drink.” The man recovers. “I’ve got a stocked bar. What can I get you?”</p>
<p>“Wine, please,” she answers. Hopefully, Ashe has a good taste. She trusts him.</p>
<p>He turns to her friend. “And you?”</p>
<p>Mercedes taps her chin. “I’ll drink anything as long as it’s boozy.”</p>
<p>“Good choice.” Ashe grins. Of course, he has to make the most complicated mixed drink. He busies himself in the kitchen looking like a blur as he works. He pours a concerning amount of rum into the blender along with a spritz of lemon juice squeezed fresh from the lemon. Ashe throws in a few more ingredients before slapping the top over the blender. It whirs to life, filling the room with a loud crunching sound. Glasses clink together as he lines them next to each other. He fills each one. As a final touch, he places a tiny umbrella in each drink and slides one to Mercedes then another to Yuri. The other is for himself. He takes a long sip before humming with satisfaction at his concoction. Constance leans over to steal a sip from Mercedes. The taste is absolutely delightful.</p>
<p>“Hapi!” Ashe calls to the redhead, “I know you like drinking, so what do you want?”</p>
<p>“Whatever.” Hapi waves her hand dismissively. She digs through Ashe’s record collection.</p>
<p>“As always.” He knew the answer before he asked. He pulls a beer from the fridge, handing it to Constance. “Go give this to Hapi.”</p>
<p>She delivers the alcohol to Hapi. Her friend eagerly snatches the beer from her. It opens with a satisfying hiss. Before Constance can blink, half the can disappears.</p>
<p>“What are you drinking?” Hapi steals the glass from her hands and takes a sizeable sip.</p>
<p>“Hey! That’s mine!” Constance complains.</p>
<p>The redhead shrugs. “It’s a big glass. You looked like you needed some help.”</p>
<p>“You could just ask if you want to try it so bad,” Constance huffs, reaching for her drink.</p>
<p>Hapi holds it just out of reach and takes another sip. “This is more fun. What kind of wine is this? It tastes like red.”</p>
<p>“Red isn’t a flavor. It’s a color.”</p>
<p>“I beg to differ.”</p>
<p>Constance glares at her. The woman laughs and hands it back. Constance hovers over her drink protectively. After a few sips, she feels much more relaxed. She sinks into the couch. The cushions are heavenly on Constance’s aching back.</p>
<p>The alcohol hits Constance hard. Her problems seem so far away. All that matters is how comfortable the couch is. Hapi leans closer to her; her hand lingers next to Constance’s. Constance is too drunk to notice. She listens to Ashe and Mercedes bustling around the kitchen. Delicious aromas waft into the room, teasing them. Her stomach growls, reminding Constance she forgot to eat today. No wonder the alcohol is setting in so intensely. She leans into Hapi and closes her eyes.</p>
<p>Hapi casually slips an arm around her. “You’re such a lightweight.”</p>
<p>“Am not!” The woman grumbles in response.</p>
<p>“You’ve had one drink, and you’re all over me half asleep.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see you complaining about it,” Constance mumbles into her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Oh, trust me. I’m enjoying this.”</p>
<p>“Dinner!” Ashe announces to everyone.</p>
<p>Hapi shoves Constance off of her. “Get up. I’m starving.”</p>
<p>Constance sits up, suddenly wide awake. She practically sprints to the table with Hapi. The table is dressed up beautifully with decorative placemats at every seat. Candles flicker at the center. Constance drools over the feast in front of her. She does not hesitate to devour everything at an alarming speed, forgoing any manners. The others are too hungry to care about her horrid manners. Mercedes and Ashe dive deep into a discussion. They surprisingly have a lot in common. Soon, Constance can barely keep track of their constant chatter. They bounce from subject to subject in a matter of seconds. Yuri doesn’t seem to mind as long as they have a good meal in front of them. They idly chat with Hapi and Constance about the latest in music.</p>
<p>“So, what have you been getting up to lately? Any word on good concerts?” Hapi starts the conversation.</p>
<p>Yuri finishes chewing before answering. “Actually, I’ve been working with a band lately.”</p>
<p>“You make music?” Constance asks.</p>
<p>“No. I couldn’t play an instrument to save my life. A paintbrush is my preferred tool. Or spray paint. That’s always fun too. Especially on walls. Although, it’s frowned upon,” Yuri explains, “I’m making their album art as well as promotional art.”</p>
<p>“That’s so cool. I had no idea you were an artist. Is that why you have so many tattoos?” She wonders aloud.</p>
<p>“No. I just get a tattoo every time I go through a mental crisis.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” She has no idea what else to say.</p>
<p>“I’m kidding. I own a tattoo parlor.” They nonchalantly roll their sleeve up to show off.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Constance still has no idea how to answer.</p>
<p>“You should design a tattoo for Coco,” Hapi suggests, “I know she doesn’t have any.”</p>
<p>“What? I can’t get a tattoo,” the blonde says nervously.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Yuri questions her.</p>
<p>“Because, uh,” she replies, not having a good answer in mind, “It’s expensive.”</p>
<p>“I’ll give you a good deal.”</p>
<p>“That’s hardly necessary.”</p>
<p>“Oh, please. I would absolutely <i>love</i> to give you a tattoo. Let me be your first. I’ll be gentle,” Yuri insists. They nudge her and wink. “You can even hold Hapi’s hand the entire time.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that. My hands will get so tired,” Hapi quips back.</p>
<p>“Like you wouldn’t enjoy it.”</p>
<p>“I resent that.”</p>
<p>Yuri sticks their tongue out at her. “If you get matching tattoos, I’ll do it for free.”</p>
<p>“You can’t just give that away for free!” Constance argues.</p>
<p>“It’s not free. I am definitely getting something out of it.” They eye Hapi who seems hopelessly flustered by the proposition.</p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” Hapi says quietly.</p>
<p>“Wonderful! I’ll give you my business card.” Yuri reaches into their pocket and produces a small piece of paper. On it is an intricate pattern along with their contact information. Constance pockets it for later, mostly out of politeness or maybe a secret desire that she isn’t ready to admit to herself yet.</p>
<p>Dinner is over with soon after. Constance stands up, grabbing her plate. “Thank you so much, Ashe. That was so delicious.”</p>
<p>“What do you think you’re doing?” Ashe asks her.</p>
<p>“Putting my plate away?”</p>
<p>“No, you’re not.” He swats at her like a cat. “Go sit down. I’m cleaning up.”</p>
<p>“It’s the least I can do,” Constance insists.</p>
<p>“Relax. You’re my guest. Go have fun.” His voice is overly polite, and his gaze shoots daggers at Constance. Constance knows she cannot win this battle, so she retreats to the couch with Mercedes. Hapi helps in the kitchen with Yuri.</p>
<p>“Ashe has a weird taste in art,” Mercedes points out.</p>
<p>Constance examines the room. Despite the apartment being modest, the art choices are quite bizarre. However, the style looks familiar. It’s grungy yet refined, an impossible mix only one person can perfect.</p>
<p>“I think this is Yuri’s design,” Constance observes thoughtfully.</p>
<p>But Constance cannot pinpoint exactly where she has seen it before. One piece sits above the TV, a large framed painting of two anthropomorphic rats engaging in an unsavory act. Constance questions it concernedly. There is nothing wrong with it, per say. Everyone has their individual tastes, but displaying it in the living room right above the television for everyone to look at leaves Constance with concerns. <i>And it’s so big</i>. How did see miss that earlier? It’s almost impossible not to. No matter how hard she tries, she cannot tear her eyes from the creation. Ashe has interesting tastes to say the least.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ashe?” she calls. The curiosity is killing her. She needs answers.</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“What’s this, uh, painting over the television?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that?” Ashe beams, “My Yuribird made that! I love framing his works and hanging them around the apartment. Aren’t they beautiful? He’s so talented.”</p>
<p>“That’s one way to put it.” Constance tries her best not to stare at the vulgar art. It taunts her from above the television. She can feel their beady rat eyes staring at her, mocking her. It’s endless torment.</p>
<p>“Kinky.” Mercedes smirks. Constance nearly dies.</p>
<p>Hapi joins them in the living room after she finishes helping Ashe. She settles on the couch next to Constance. She is a welcome distraction to Constance’s current plight. Mercedes perks up, leaning around her friend to stare at her.</p>
<p>“So, Hapi,” she starts, “Tell me about yourself.”</p>
<p>“What is there to say?” Hapi answers, a bit thrown off by how forward the woman is, “Doesn’t Constance tell you everything?”</p>
<p>Constance blushes at the mention of her name. Hapi thinks she gushes about her to her friend, and she’s not wrong.</p>
<p>“She does.” Mercedes winks and nudges her friend. “But I want to hear it from the source. I want to know about this mysterious woman Constance loves so much.”</p>
<p>Her choice of words makes Constance jump. <i>Love?</i> Why did she have to say that word out of all words. Her mind races.</p>
<p>“So I’m mysterious.” Hapi lets it go to her head. “That makes me sound badass. Like I ride a motorcycle or something.”</p>
<p>The image of Hapi riding a motorcycle nearly kills Constance. All that leather. She would probably combust if she ever saw that in real life.</p>
<p>“Constance definitely has a thing for women on motorcycles,” Mercedes says with her usual lilt. She smiles innocently.</p>
<p>“I’ll be sure to take that into account,” Hapi replies.</p>
<p>“I am right here,” Constance huffs, trying to act casual about the ordeal. Her face flushes with embarrassment.</p>
<p>“I know, dear. That only adds to the fun.” Mercedes puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. I like to tease Coco too,” Hapi adds in.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it fun?”</p>
<p>“Very.”</p>
<p>“You guys are the worst. I’m getting another drink.” Constance stands up to escape to the kitchen, ending the conversation entirely. Still, the two women chatter behind her back. The kitchen is much quieter save for the loud whir of the blender. Ashe prepares more drinks, obviously enjoying himself as he does so. Yuri leans against the counter as they watch him. They do the taste test before Ashe is satisfied with the outcome.</p>
<p>“Want one?” He offers.</p>
<p>“Yes, please.” Constance graciously takes it.</p>
<p>By the time she finishes her second drink, Constance is pleasantly warm. The buzz has her feeling gleeful. Not even the painting can bother her (as much). She sits on the couch between her two best friends. Hapi drinks another beer. The cans start to pile up on the coffee table. Yuri leans back in their chair, putting their feet on the armrest as every gay person normally sits. Ashe joins soon after with even more mixed drinks.</p>
<p>“Hey, Yuri, can you explain that painting?” Mercedes blurts out.</p>
<p>“Which one?” They ask, looking up.</p>
<p>She points. “That one.”</p>
<p>“Ah, that one’s a good one. It’s a parody of pop art by using a darker scene but with a lighthearted approach,” Yuri explains.</p>
<p>“The one of the rat blowing his friend’s back out?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that one! No. You can put all the symbolism into it that you want, but it really is just two anthropomorphic rats fucking. It’s meant to grab the eye and nothing more,” they state plainly, “I originally started painting them to donate to a television auction for charity. They were selling really well until they banned erotica. Which may or may not have been my fault.”</p>
<p>“So you chose to hang them up in your living room instead?” Mercedes asks, still just as confused as before.</p>
<p>“Ashe made that decision. Not me.”</p>
<p>“Your boyfriend has quite the balls to hang something like that on the wall for anyone to see.”</p>
<p>“That’s my favorite thing about him.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of balls-“</p>
<p>“Can you guys stop talking about rat sex for like two seconds?” Hapi butts in.</p>
<p>“Hapi, this is an important discussion. I assure you,” Yuri says.</p>
<p>“I’m going home.” She stands up.</p>
<p>“Hapi, don’t leave me alone with those two!” Constance pleads, “I can’t handle this conversation alone.”</p>
<p>“I’ll stay, but only if you promise to quit the rat talk,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Fine. I promise.” Yuri rolls their eyes.</p>
<p>There is a small window of silence. Constance gathers her thoughts. There is too much for her to process. Hapi leans back into the couch. They are close enough that their legs are touching, and suddenly, that is all Constance can think about.</p>
<p>“So are you two dating yet?” Yuri asks suddenly.</p>
<p>“Yuri, I’m going to kill you,” Hapi answers, throwing an empty beer can at them.</p>
<p>Constance responds with equal hostility, “We’re not dating. Whatever would make you think such a thing?”</p>
<p>“You guys are boring. All these longing stares and no action. Shouldn’t you be scissoring or something?” Yuri rolls his eyes and turns to Mercedes. “How about you, Mercedes, do you have a girlfriend?”</p>
<p>“I do, actually,” she responds.</p>
<p>Now Constance jumps to attention. “Wait. Mercedes, you’re dating someone? Why have I not heard of this prior?”</p>
<p>“Oh, did I forget to tell you? My bad.”</p>
<p>“Mercedes, I am begging you. Please tell me everything about your new partner.”</p>
<p>Yuri sits back and watches the chaos go down. The two friends argue back and forth, getting louder by the second. Hapi sits confusedly on the couch, too scared to involve herself in the drama. The atmosphere in the room turns electric.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Constance says, chest aching.</p>
<p>“I forgot!” Mercedes reasons.</p>
<p>“I’m your best friend! We tell each other everything!” Constance shouts, “How could you forget?”</p>
<p>“I was gonna tell you first,” her friend apologizes, “It just slipped out.”</p>
<p>Yuri smirks. “Nah. She just likes me more.”</p>
<p>Constance glares at them. Her words burn with enough rage to kill a man. “You take that back this instant.”</p>
<p>Hapi holds her back before she can leap on them. The blonde tries to wrestle out of her tight grasp. Ashe chooses the worst moment to come back from the bathroom.</p>
<p>“What the hell is going on in here?”</p>
<p>Everyone freezes and turns to look at him. The room goes completely silent.</p>
<p>“You know I have neighbors, and it’s well past eleven,” Ashe continues. He frowns, seeming disappointed in them. Constance feels her heart break as she let her friend down.</p>
<p>“I apologize,” she says quietly, “I got a little too worked up over something silly. It’s my fault. Mercedes, you know I love you more than anything. I was being rash.”</p>
<p>“And I kept egging it on,” Yuri adds in.</p>
<p>“Are we going to calm down now?” Ashe asks them.</p>
<p>The group nods in unison. “We’ll behave.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>With another round of drinks, everyone loosens up and calms down. The music dies down to a light murmur to keep the neighbors from waking. The night crawls on, and soon, everyone is feeling tired. Hapi, having finished off a six-pack of beer by herself, lies sleepily on the couch with an arm draped around Constance. Constance’s eyes droop sleepily. One drink is enough to knock her out, but she couldn’t refuse Ashe’s kindness when he slid her another drink. Especially when it tasted that good. She just knows she’ll be feeling it in the morning, but for now, she is too tired to care. Ashe settles into Yuri’s lap despite his protesting. The group sits in a lazy silence, slowly letting exhaustion take over their bodies. Eventually, Yuri and Ashe give in and go to bed, leaving the three women alone.</p>
<p>“You know where the guest room is,” Ashe says through a yawn, “Goodnight.”</p>
<p>Constance is already fast asleep. She huddles between her two friends, curled up like a cat. Her breathing slows to a steady rhythm. It puts Hapi into a trance. She finds it nearly impossible to stay awake. Until Mercedes settles in next to her.</p>
<p>“Hapi, wake up.” She pokes her gently.</p>
<p>“What?” The woman mumbles, eyes still closed.</p>
<p>“I like you.”</p>
<p>Hapi tilts her head, eyes cracking open to look at the woman. “I’m glad you do, but is there any particular reason you’re telling me this? Like, you woke me up to say that. That’s kinda rude.”</p>
<p>“Because you’re dating my best friend.”</p>
<p>Hapi nervously glances to Constance who is luckily fast asleep next to her. “We’re not dating.”</p>
<p>“But you will eventually. Be honest.”</p>
<p>She searches for the right words. “Maybe.”</p>
<p>Maybe. <i>Maybe</i>. That was all she could come up with? It’s too open ended. Better words could have been chosen, but she’s no poet. And the hangover is already starting to set in.</p>
<p>“Just promise me you’ll take care of my Constance,” Mercedes requests, “I love her so much, and I would hate to see her hurt. Especially by someone she cares about so much.”</p>
<p>Hapi smiles at that statement. “Of course I will-”</p>
<p>“And if you hurt her.” Mercedes’s demeanor suddenly changes. Her sobering words cut like a knife. “I will track you down and murder you in ways you cannot even begin to imagine. I am not afraid to go to jail.”</p>
<p>“I won’t hurt her. I promise,” the woman answers, visibly shaken by the sudden hostility. She chooses her words carefully. “And if I did, I deserve whatever punishment you have for hurting the sweetest woman in existence.”</p>
<p>With that, Mercedes returns to her usual self. She smiles softly.</p>
<p>“You love her,” she teases.</p>
<p>“As a friend,” Hapi corrects her.</p>
<p>“For now.”</p>
<p>The redhead turns away. She’s too drunk for this conversation. “Go to bed. You’re drunk.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>some hapi this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When morning comes, Ashe is the first awake. He rises early with the sun, unlike everyone else in his life. With a stretch and a lengthy yawn, he shakes off the grogginess and gets ready for the day. The room is still dark until he opens the curtains. Light floods in, making Yuri stir. He gently pokes his partner awake, only for them to swat at him like a grumpy cat. Ashe decides to leave them be and hobbles sleepily into the kitchen.</p><p>He quietly shuffles around. His plush slippers make little noise on the floor. Water boils on the stove as he prepares breakfast. All the while, he while he hums a song to himself. The three women lie asleep on the couch in a pile, dead to the world. Yuri drags themselves into the living room a moment later. They stretch their back and let out a lengthy yawn.</p><p>“Morning,” they say.</p><p>“Morning, dear,” Ashe answers back.</p><p>Yuri steps outside onto the patio.</p><p>The spacious patio looks out over the city. The view is beautiful from so high even despite the cold. A gentle snow falls down. Yuri leans on the railing, staring down at the busy street below. They flick their lighter. The cigarette lights up, sending a small cloud of smoke into the air. The morning sun peeks through the clouds, providing a bit of warmth. The glass door slides open. Hapi steps out, a mug of tea in hand.</p><p>“Morning.” Yuri doesn’t bother to look behind them. They exhale a cloud of smoke and flick the ashes to the city below.</p><p>“Morning, idiot. It’s cold out.” Hapi stands next to them, cupping her mug for warmth. She tugs her sleeves over her hands.</p><p>“Can’t smoke inside. I’m not an animal.” Yuri reaches into their pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes. Seneca’s. A wonderful choice if you happen to have no taste buds.</p><p>“Dude, those are gross. Why can’t you smoke something better than Seneca’s?” Hapi contorts her face with disgust.</p><p>They shove the cigarette closer. “You shouldn’t be smoking anyway. Just take it and enjoy the company.”</p><p>“Fine.” She takes the cigarette between her fingers. Yuri lights it for her. They stand in silence as they watch over the quiet city. It feels peaceful from so far up. The heat from her mug keeps her warm. Hapi lets herself relax, ignoring her terrible hangover headache. Her shoulders loosen.</p><p>“What’s keeping you, Hapi?” Yuri asks flatly.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.</p><p>“Yes. You do. Don’t bullshit me. Why haven’t you asked Constance out yet?”</p><p>Hapi takes a deep breath. “You know I’m not the dating type.”</p><p>“Long-term dating type,” Yuri corrects her, “You’ve dated more women than I can count.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t count those as dating.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t ether. More like glorified hookups. Step it up, Hapi. I know you like her, so tell her. Stop being a little bitch about it.”</p><p>The redhead leans further over the railing to stare at the traffic. Her hair falls over her shoulders covering her face. “I don’t want Constance to be just another woman. She’s so much more than that, and that scares me. I know I’m gonna fuck it up. I’m not good enough for her. All I’ve done is get her high and make her drop out of college. Partners are supposed to bring each other up, and I’m just a nuisance. I don’t know why I keep her around.”</p><p>Yuri lays a hand on her shoulder. Their voice is soft yet stern. “You are good enough for her, but not if you keep up with this incessant whining. You care about her and want the best for her. You don’t need to be perfect to date her. She’s not perfect either. Nobody is.”</p><p>“What if I make things worse?”</p><p>“Then you fix it. You can’t have a relationship with a few bumps in the road,” her friend huffs, trying not to raise their voice, “Do you think me and Ashe have it perfect? We fight and work it out and move on. Neither of us are perfect, and god, Hapi, you know how bad I can be.”</p><p>They take a long drag from their cigarette and close their eyes a moment. Their shoulders sink down as they let out a deep breath. Hapi looks back at him, sadness in her eyes.</p><p>“I just need time, Yuri,” she says, starting to choke up, “I don’t like getting attached. You know how I am.”</p><p>“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” They answer simply, “Just go for it. You won’t regret it for a second. Besides, you already know she likes you too.”</p><p>Yuri leans over to nudge her, trying to lighten the mood. Hapi tenses up, but lets them touch her. Awkwardly, they pull her closer for a hug, nearly dropping their cigarette off the balcony in the process. Hapi leans into them. The two stay like that for a while despite the cold. Although, Hapi is too distracted to feel it. Yuri always knows how to help. Sometimes they understand Hapi better than she understands herself. It’s funny how friends do that.</p><p>Inside, Constance sits on the couch, muddling through a nasty headache. She wants to go back to sleep, but Ashe won’t let her. He gives her a cup of tea for her troubles. It does little to ease the hellscape that her body has become. A punch to the face would feel better than how she feels now. Nonetheless, she appreciates his kindness.</p><p>“Good morning, Constance.” Comes Mercedes’ cheerful voice.</p><p>“How are you alive right now? You drank more than I did,” Constance says, absolutely appalled that her friend can manage to be so perky on so little sleep.</p><p>“I have my ways.”</p><p>Constance decides to leave it at that. She sips on her mug of warm tea and curiously watches Hapi and Yuri on the patio. She wonders what they are talking about.</p><p>“Breakfast!” Ashe croons. He opens the door and waves the two down.</p><p>That quickly brings them both inside. Constance, as usual, sits next to Hapi. Mercedes takes the seat on her other side, leaving Yuri and Ashe to the opposite end of the table. Breakfast is simple, an omelet for each with a hearty side of hash brown. Fresh peppers and onions are mixed in with the egg. The delicious smell fills the air. Constance’s stomach rumbles with anticipation. She wastes no time stabbing her fork into it. The gooey omelet tastes delicious with the creaminess of the cheese complimenting the spice from the pepper and the sweetness of the onion. It disappears off the plate within minutes. Hapi does the same with her helping.</p><p>“What were you two discussing outside?” Constance wonders, “It’s awfully cold out.”</p><p>The other two respond in unison.</p><p>“Nothing,” Hapi replies.</p><p>“Sex,” Yuri answers without missing a beat.</p><p>Hapi looks to her friend with a gaze of betrayal. Constance is more confused than anything.</p><p>“We were smoking,” they correct themselves, “Nothing more.”</p><p>Hapi breathes a sigh of relief.</p><p>After breakfast comes the time to leave. Hapi has to open the record store eventually, and Mercedes has to get ready for work. Constance wants to go home and sleep until the coroner shows up to legally pronounce her dead. After many suffocating hugs from Ashe, they finally leave.</p><p>A few clouds linger in the morning sky from the earlier snow.  The city is peaceful in this part of town. The roads get busier with cars and pedestrians as they walk on. A man on a bike whizzes past them, nearly bumping into Mercedes. She loses her balance, crashing into Hapi. The other woman catches her effortlessly. Constance catches a blush on Mercedes’s face. A hint of jealousy pings her stomach. Surely, Hapi would do the same for her.</p><p>The bus halts to a stop as they arrive. Pressure releases, and the door swings open. A line of people funnel into the vehicle. Most are on their commute to work. Hapi lets Mercedes and Constance have the last two seats, standing in front of them. The bus jerks as it moves forward, jolting Constance awake. Her headache returns, and she rests her head on Mercedes. The woman has the most comfortable shoulders.</p><p>Mercedes’s stop arrives first. She waves goodbye and steps off the bus. Constance watches her out the window. Hapi slides into the empty seat next to her.</p><p>“You’re quiet this morning,” she muses, “That’s odd for you.”</p><p>“I hate mornings,” Constance groans. She leans into her friend, resting her head on her shoulder.</p><p>Hapi laughs. “Aren’t early mornings all college is about? Besides the learning thing.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“How did you survive college?”</p><p>“I dropped out,” Constance states. She is another person in the morning, and her hangover is not helping. She slumps into her seat. The bus halts to a stop. The inertia jolts her forward, but her body is too tired to react. This is it. This is how she dies. She lets out a yawn and wholly accepts her fate. Hapi instinctively holds onto the woman to keep her from falling. Constance tries desperately to stay awake. Her eyes droop, getting heavier with each passing moment. Hapi casually slips her hand into Constance’s and squeezes it.</p><p>The bell rings as they walk into the store. The store is dark and silent, much different from what Constance is used to. It is like being in a different world. Hapi flicks a light on and suddenly everything turns back to normal.</p><p>“Got any plans for today?” The woman asks.</p><p>“Sleep,” Constance mumbles her answer. In reality, she has too much work to do before she can go back to bed.</p><p>“You can sleep on the couch if you want,” Hapi offers, “I’ll wake you up later.”</p><p>The offer is tempting. Constance cannot say no to sleep. “Don’t let me sleep past noon.”</p><p>Constance spends the rest of her day bustling around town running errands. She stops home to take a shower before heading to work. Luckily, the bookstore closes earlier on Sundays. By the end of the day, she has no energy left to give. She flops face down onto the bed ready to return to the darkness from whence she came. The bedsprings squeak under her, and the pillow welcomes her like an angel returning to heaven. She has never felt more comfortable, yet sleep eludes her despite her utter exhaustion.</p><p>After flopping to her other side for the fifteenth time, she decides to call Hapi. She sits nervously on the bed waiting for the woman to pick up the phone. The ringing goes on for a long while before Hapi finally answers. She feels strangely anxious. Why would she feel anxious? She’s called Hapi before. This should be easy.<br/>
She searches through her bag for something to distract herself. Her hand hits something unfamiliar. A plastic case, a cassette. She pulls it out to examine it. Hapi made this for her, and she still hasn’t listened to it. Not that she’s had the time. It’s only been a day, and a busy one at that.</p><p>“Hello?” Comes Hapi’s voice crackling over the phone. Constance suddenly realizes she has been silent for an entire minute.</p><p>“Hey. Uh, hi,” the woman stutters, her cheeks burning up, “How are you?”</p><p>“Same as when you left me,” her friend says, “Except I miss you more.”</p><p>Constance’s heart skips a beat. “It hasn’t even been a day. I’ll be back tomorrow.”<br/>
Hapi goes silent a moment. Constance waits in anticipation, hoping she said the right words. She clutches at her pillow while her mind races.</p><p>“Can I talk to you about something?” Hapi sounds tentative. Her words are slow, thought out. Constance catches a hint of nervousness in the woman’s voice.</p><p>“Sure.” Constance can only begin to imagine what she wants to talk about.</p><p>“We’re close friends, right?”</p><p>“Yes. Of course we are,” Constance answers, taken aback by the question. It’s strange the question even needs to be asked. “What would make you doubt that?”</p><p>“I don’t doubt it,” the woman responds, “It just feels… weird. I’m not used to this. These emotions. I’m sorry.”</p><p><i>What emotions?</i> Constance desperately needs to know what her friend is talking about. Of course, Hapi will be straightforward about everything except feelings. “What are you trying to say, Hapi?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Hapi sounds worried now. She pulls back. “I’m saying too much. I’m sorry.”</p><p>She is not saying enough. Constance wishes she knew what is going through this woman’s head. “You can talk to me about anything. It’s never too much.  Please talk to me.”</p><p>“This is so silly to say, but I’ve just never been so close to someone like this before.”</p><p>“What about Yuri?”</p><p>“They’re different. I’ve known them forever. I can talk to them easily. Not that I can’t talk to you easily. It’s just… different with you.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Constance asks.</p><p>“You’re a girl,” Hapi blurts out.</p><p>“What does that have to do with anything?”</p><p>“I don’t get close to girls. I’m not ‘friends’ with girls.”</p><p>“Am I not a girl?”</p><p>“No. You’re definitely a girl. You’re just the first girl I’ve ever gotten particularly close to. Well, at least without dating them. Not that I don’t want to date you! No. Forget I said that. I’m getting away from my point. My point is I feel like I push everyone away, and I don’t want to push you away too. That’s what I was talking about with Yuri. I was worried about losing you,” Hapi explains. Her words come out in a nervous burst.</p><p>“Oh, Hapi, I won’t allow you to push me away. You’re stuck with me,” Constance says. She pauses a second before adding, “Probably forever.”</p><p>“Forever, huh?” Hapi laughs, any unease quickly disappearing from her voice. “You’re a stubborn one, Coco. That’s what I like about you. Usually.”</p><p>“Usually?”</p><p>“You’re something else. That’s all I gotta say.”</p><p>“You’re quite the specimen yourself, Hapi.”</p><p>“Come say that to my face,” she teases.</p><p>“Don’t tempt me. You know I will.”</p><p>A brief moment of silence. Then, Hapi says, “Did you listen to the mixtape yet? It’s okay if you haven’t. I only gave it to you yesterday.”</p><p>“I was hoping I could listen to it with you, actually.”</p><p>“With me? Why? It’s your mixtape. Not mine.”</p><p>Constance barely catches the hitch in Hapi’s voice. Her friend covers it well.</p><p>“You made it for me. I want you to see me hear it for the first time.”</p><p>“That makes sense. If you wanted, you could come over to the store tomorrow night. We could order a pizza or something to make it special.”</p><p>Constance laughs. “No wonder you’re single if that’s your idea of a special date.”</p><p>The word slipped out of her mouth before she could catch it. She puts a hand over her mouth to stop herself from rashly speaking any more. <i>Stupid Constance.</i> She scolds herself, smacking herself on the forehead a bit too hard.</p><p>“I am single by choice,” Hapi says with a huff, “I can be quite the romantic if I want to be. I could have all the girls crawling over me.”</p><p>A ping of jealousy sits in Constance’s stomach. Her heart pounds with an anger that she quickly quells. She has no reason to be jealous. Right?</p><p>“I have yet to see it,” she answers, chewing her lip hard.</p><p>“Oh, you wish you could see the romantic side of me. You’d be swooning.”</p><p>With that, Constance is fired up once more. “I’d like to see you try.”</p><p>“Really?” Hapi asks genuinely, her competitive edge suddenly disappearing.</p><p>“Uh, yes. If that’s something that would be okay with you. We could do it for the sake of competition. Nothing more,” Constance says unsurely. She genuinely convinces herself that is her only motive.</p><p>“Okay. Okay. We can work out a date tomorrow when you- oh shit-“ A small commotion fills the background. It sounds as if something fell and broke. Constance cannot tell what is going on.</p><p>“What?” She says hopelessly.</p><p>“I gotta go. Bye!” Hapi quickly hangs up the phone, giving Constance no time to respond. Only the loud buzz of the dial up tone remains. Constance sits there for a moment in shock. The phone slides out of her hand and hits the bed.</p><p>She picks up the tape once more, tracing her finger over the smooth plastic surface. The urge to listen to it falls upon her. Now that she has obligations, the desire for the forbidden is overwhelming. Constance fights the temptation no matter how alluring it may be. She can wait for Hapi. Besides, it’s going to be special. It’s going to be a <i>date</i>. The word puts a sense of horror in the pit of her stomach. Reality catches up to her quickly.</p><p>It’s not a date. Is it? <i>Is it?</i>. Her mind swirls with thoughts. She throws the tape back into her bag. Her head hits the pillow, and she drowns herself in her blankets to forget about life for a while.</p><p>----</p><p>It’s now of all times her boss decides to increase her hours. After months of asking, Constance only now gets what she asks for. That means working every open to closing shift in existence day after day to no avail. She returns home every evening exhausted and too tired to survive. In the back of her mind, she remembers Hapi. She made a promise to her, and she feels terrible she cannot keep it.</p><p>The phone rings. Hapi. Constance rushes to the phone.</p><p>“Oh, I’ve been hoping you would call,” she says as soon as she answers.</p><p>“Constance, I wasn’t expecting you to be so excited to hear from me,” her father’s voice comes through the receiver. Constance’s heart sinks. His next words come out like an omen. “I have good news for you.”</p><p>“What is it?” She dares ask.</p><p>“I talked to a friend over the weekend. He knows a guy who works for HR at a prestigious company. He said he can get you an interview.”</p><p>The offer sounds more like a death sentence than an act of kindness. Her tone waivers as she tries to sound excited. “Really? That’s great!”</p><p>“Yes, and what’s even better is right here in Pittsburgh. You can commute from home until you find a place in the city.”</p><p>Her chest starts to ache. Constance can feel the room start to spin. “You want me to move cities? But what about Mercedes?”</p><p>“Mercedes isn’t doing anything with her life. You’re better off without her.”</p><p>Constance bites her tongue. She knows better than to argue with her father. She takes a deep breath before answering. “When is this interview?”</p><p>“Next week. I expect you to arrive a couple days before then to assure you will be ready. I already prepared you a bus ticket. Don’t miss it. I’ll even drive you into the city.”</p><p>“I’ll be there, father. Thank you.”</p><p>“Goodbye, Constance. I’ll see you soon.”</p><p>“Goodbye, father.” She quickly hangs up the phone. Her chest feels tight, and she can barely breathe. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. With a shaky hand, she grabs the phone once more.</p><p>“Mercedes? Can you come over?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>new chapter! been sittin on this on accident</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The store feels empty for the next few days without a certain annoying presence. Hapi bides her time working. It’s all she can do. The rush of customers is enough to keep her mind off that certain someone. She regrets not telling her friend what is truly on her mind. She hates how she hesitates on her feelings. She missed her chance, and now, she might never get another one. The conversation plays over in her head, tormenting her while she works. It should have gone better. Now, Constance thinks her intentions were as a friend.</p><p>“Did you ask her out yet?” Yuri inevitably asks her. They flick their lighter on and off as they lean against the counter.</p><p>Hapi lets out a pained sigh. She puts her head in her hand. “I did, but I still fucked it up. She thinks I mean it as friends. Like this is some game.”</p><p>“Love is like chess. You can’t just eat the pieces and expect to win.”</p><p>“What the hell does that mean, Yuri?”</p><p>They wave their hand dismissively. “Of course you wouldn’t get it. My point is if you want to get anywhere with Constance, you need to be more honest with yourself first.”</p><p>“I am honest with myself,” Hapi says. For a moment, she almost believes it.</p><p>“You are not. I can see it. You act all confident, but in reality, you have no sense of self-worth. You don’t think you’re deserving of Constance, and you keep sabotaging yourself because of it. You’ve been like this since high school.”</p><p>“I am not sabotaging myself,” she insists.</p><p>“You told me you asked her out, and then told her it was platonic,” Yuri answers, shooting her a look that pierces her soul. Hapi hates that they’re right.</p><p>“Maybe I do just want to be friends with Coco.” The redhead shrugs. “She <i>is</i> kinda snooty. And really weird.”</p><p>Her friend laughs. They coo at her with a teasing lilt to their voice that reminds Hapi of a high school girl. ”Oh, please. You’re in <i>love</i> with her.”</p><p>“I am not,” she says, having to be contrary.</p><p>“You made her a mixtape. If that doesn’t scream love, what does?”</p><p>“That’s something friends do for friends. There’s nothing romantic about a mixtape.”</p><p>“Hapi, <i>everything</i> is romantic about a mixtape. You procure it specifically to the other person’s taste and spend hours making it. You don’t just do that for just <i>anyone</i> unless they’re really special. And I certainly know you wouldn’t do that for just anyone. The only way you could be more romantic is if you wrote her a song and serenaded her from outside her window.”</p><p>“It’s merely coincidence. She likes music. I give her music. That’s it,” Hapi says plain and simple. “That’s our relationship.”</p><p>“Must I remind you that you were so nervous about giving her that tape that you made me give her weed to soften the blow?” Yuri gives her a suspicious glance.</p><p>“Okay, fine,” she groans, caught in the act, “Maybe I have a little crush on her.”</p><p>“A little?”</p><p>Hapi punches them in the shoulder. “Don’t rub it in.”</p><p>“I’m not! I just want you to be happy, you dumbass.”</p><p>“I am happy,” she insists, “Just give me some time to figure this out, okay? I’ve got shit to work through.”</p><p>“We all have shit to work through, Hapi. Maybe if you actually let us help you, you’ll feel good about yourself for once,” Yuri says. Their tone is harsh, but their eyes are filled with concern.</p><p>
  <i>Wouldn’t that be nice?</i>
</p><p>“I know. It’s just hard,” Hapi grumbles. She runs her hand through her hair.</p><p>“I know it is, but that’s why I’m so persistent with you.” They step closer to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Just know I’m here for you.”</p><p>“I know you are.” Hapi leans into them, a slight smile on her face. “Thanks, Yuribird.”</p><p>“Anytime, idiot.”</p><p>“I love you too, dork.” She rolls her eyes.</p><p>----</p><p>Constance meticulously organizes the bookstore right down to the letter. She goes down aisle by aisle making sure every single book is in its place. Every title must face the same direction. The bigger books can’t overshadow the smaller ones. It’s the only thing keeping her from losing her mind.</p><p>Patrons shuffle around shopping for the right book. One woman loiters in the romance section, deep in a novel. Constance recognizes the title. It is a title she would not dare read in public, and the fact that this random woman has the guts to do so in the middle of the store grabs Constance’s admiration. The floor creaks as customers wander about. Constance cleans up after them. Customers never put books back where they found them, but at least it gives her something to do.</p><p>Her boss sits at the counter reading last week’s newspaper. He leans back in his chair, not paying attention to anything around him. Carefully, he thumbs to the next page.</p><p>Constance wishes she were anywhere else. The record store sits in her mind. She made a promise to Hapi and feels terrible she can’t keep it. Hapi insisted it was fine; they would meet again when she finally has time. No matter how long it takes. Still, she feels terrible. She misses Hapi dearly, and the effects of withdrawal are starting to sink in. If she keeps busy, she forgets about it for a while, but it always comes creeping back.</p><p>“What’s on your mind?” Her coworker, Bernadetta, asks curiously. The two often get stuck in shifts together. At first, the other woman could barely look Constance in the eye. Over time, she warmed up to her, and Constance learned to be less overbearing. But not by much.</p><p>Constance shakes out of her daze. “Oh, nothing. I’m fine.”</p><p>“You’ve been moping around the store all day,” her friend replies softly, “Anything I can help with?”</p><p>“I’m just stressed is all. Too much work. Not enough free time.” She has been working every day this week.</p><p>“I know somewhere we could go to take your mind off things for a while.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Constance smiles. “Bernie, are you asking me out?”</p><p>Bernadetta’s face flushes a deep red. “W-what? No. Not like a date. I mean as friends. A friend date.”</p><p>“I’m just teasing you. I’m just surprised you’re actually taking the initiative to ask me to go somewhere with you. Usually, I have to be the one to do it.”</p><p>“You just seem really stressed, and I want to help,” she says.</p><p>“And I appreciate it.”</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“Of course I do. So, are we hanging out or what?” Constance asks, starting to feel alive again.</p><p>“Y-yes. Of course. When do you get off of work?” Bernadetta wonders.</p><p> “Eight. It’s the closing shift.”</p><p>“Oh, me too. That works out perfectly.”</p><p>It gives Constance something to look forward to at the end of the night.</p><p>----</p><p>After work, they walk together. The sun sets behind them, making their shadows stretch in front of them. It’s the only time Constance gets to feel tall. The sky is a glorious array of reds and oranges. Constance’s shoes click to the rhythm of the song stuck in her head. They stop next to a dirty car in the street. Bernadetta pulls out her key and unlocks it.</p><p>“So where are we going?” Constance wonders as she gets inside.</p><p>The car hums to life. Bernadetta asks, “Do you like tea?”</p><p>“I love tea.”</p><p>“Then, this should work out well. Uh, hopefully. It’s okay if it doesn’t.”</p><p>Constance finds herself in a small tea lounge downtown. The place is well hidden, with only a single sign on the door. This late in the evening, the lounge is hardly busy. Only a few customers linger. Instead of traditional tables, there are couches and areas for patrons to enjoy their tea on the floor. Fancy cushions line the floor next to the tables along with a mat for customers to place their shoes. Quiet music plays over the speakers, bands Constance has never heard of. She can tell why Bernadetta likes the place so much; it’s tucked away from the rest of the world. They slip their shoes off and sit at a small table in the corner away from the other customers.</p><p>“What kind of tea do you like?” Bernadetta wonders as she flips through the small menu.</p><p>Constance tries not to drool as she reads over the list. She cannot possibly decide. It’s been much too long since she has had a proper cup of tea. “All kinds. Preferably something black.”</p><p>“Have you ever tried blooming tea?”</p><p>“I have not. What is it?”</p><p>“You have to try it. It’s quite the surprise.”</p><p>“You have peaked my interest,” Constance says, “I’ll order it.”</p><p>“Oh, um, actually, would you mind ordering for us?” Bernadetta asks quietly, “My usual waitress isn’t here, so I’m kinda of nervous to go up there. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“Of course I can do that.” Constance would rather not, but she knows how nervous Bernadetta can be. She would rather spare her the anxiety if she can help it.</p><p>“So, um, how’s school going? I remember you mentioning classes once upon a time.” Bernadetta starts the conversation. She seems nervous, but tries her best. “Finals are coming up soon, and I’m super nervous.”</p><p>“I’m not in college anymore, actually,” Constance says quietly. She taps her fingers on the table anxiously. She hasn’t exactly told anyone yet.</p><p>“I didn’t know. Did you graduate early?”</p><p>“I, uh, I dropped out recently,” the woman admits.</p><p>“Oh. There’s nothing wrong with that. May I ask why?” Bernadetta seems genuinely curious. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”</p><p>“It’s fine. I just couldn’t stand being a business major. It was too much to handle. I didn’t feel like myself.”</p><p>“Same here,” her friend says, “Accounting is the worst.”</p><p>“You took accounting?” Constance blinks at her.</p><p>“Yeah. I used to be a business major before I switched to creative writing.”</p><p>Finally. Someone that feels her pain.</p><p>“Get out,” she gasps. “You can’t be serious.”</p><p>“It’s true,” Bernadetta insists.</p><p>“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Constance hums, happy to know she made the right choice, “May I ask why you chose to switch majors?”</p><p>“Business majors are the most uncreative people I’ve ever met,” her friend sighs, “I was so bored in all my classes, and I didn’t understand anything. I felt so hopelessly lost that I stopped going to class. It made me so anxious I couldn’t even leave my room. So instead, I started writing books. I like getting lost in my stories. It helped me realize I could live a better life for myself.”</p><p>“Me too.” Constance nods.</p><p>“You’re a writer then?” Bernadetta perks up.</p><p>“Oh god, no.” The blonde laughs it off. “I’m not sure what I am.”</p><p>“You should try writing then. You might like it.”</p><p>“What would I even write about?”</p><p>“Anything you want!” Bernadetta beams, suddenly seeming a lot more comfortable, “That’s the fun of it. You could write about the weather, or your job, or your feelings, or the news, or make something up completely. The possibilities are endless.”</p><p>“I don’t know what I want to write about though.”</p><p>She taps her fingers on the table. “You could write a poem.”</p><p>“A poem?” Constance scoffs, “I may come off as snooty, but I won’t stoop down to writing poetry. I’ll get beat up.”</p><p>She catches a cold glance from the other woman. “Music is poetry, and I know you love music. Poetry is just a different way of getting a feeling out. If you write music, you’re writing poetry.”</p><p>Constance has never thought of it that way. “That’s true.”</p><p>“So you should try it.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?” Bernadetta frowns.</p><p>“I’m not gonna like it.”</p><p>“You won’t know until you try it.” She pushes her. “You could write a song.”</p><p>“A song? But what would I possibly write about?” Constance wonders.</p><p>Bernadetta shrugs. “I think the easiest poems to write are either about love or heartache. Write about your feelings.”</p><p><i>Love?</i> Constance wouldn’t know.</p><p>Before she can answer, the waiter interrupts the conversation with their pot of tea. The pot is clear to display the contents inside. Curiously enough, Constance can see a ball of leaves in the middle. She watches it with great intrigue.</p><p>“This is blooming tea,” Bernadetta explains, “Watch the flower in the middle.”</p><p>“Flower? Oh!” The flower floating in the water starts blooming into a gorgeous pink flower. The petals unfurl in a beautiful array of color, all inside the teapot. Constance feels guilty drinking it, like she would ruin the art piece.</p><p>“Isn’t it beautiful?”</p><p>“It’s gorgeous,” Constance replies, unable to take her eyes off the flower. Bernadetta interrupts the moment by stealing the pot and pouring herself a cup of the tea. It steams in the cup. She fills a cup for her friend as well. Constance takes the cup delicately between her hands. The hot tea burns against her skin, but she loves it. The woman brings the cup up to smell the flowery aroma. Eventually, it cools down enough that Constance can manage to take a sip. The taste is delicious despite the burn it leaves on her tongue. She feels herself melting in the flavor a bit too literally. It has been too long since she has had tea this delectable.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Bernadetta asks tentatively. She watches the other woman with great interest.</p><p>“Bernadetta, this is the best tea I’ve ever had.” She uses all her strength not to inhale the rest of it. She wants to enjoy it as long as she can without scalding her taste buds off.</p><p>“I’m glad you enjoy it.”</p><p>“So how did you even find this place?” Constance asks curiously, “And why haven’t I heard of it before? I could practically live here.”</p><p>“I found this place by accident. I stumbled in, and soon found it was a really nice place to relax without being around so many people. I come here to write a lot,” Bernadetta says, “I’m kinda a regular here.”</p><p>“Well, soon they’ll have another. I would love to come back with you sometime.”</p><p>“You want to hang out with me again?”</p><p>“Of course I do. We are friends after all.”</p><p>They stay there for a while longer, just enjoying each other’s company and the pot of tea between them. Eventually, the tea runs out, and Constance uses all her strength not to buy another pot. That much caffeine might be enough to finally kill her. By the time they leave, the sun is completely set, leaving the sky dark and cloudy. A chilly wind blows through the streets. It feels nice, especially when Constance has Hapi’s jacket to keep her warm. At this point, she can conclude the jacket belongs to her now. She pulls the sleeves over her hands and revels in the feeling.</p><p>“Are you feeling better?” Bernadetta wonders.</p><p>“I feel much more relaxed,” Constance answers.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re feeling better. And, um, I’m glad we got to hang out. Like as friends.”</p><p>“I’m glad too.” She smiles warmly. “You’re a really cool person.”</p><p>“Y-you think I’m cool?”</p><p>“Of course I do. You follow your passions. You write books and poetry. You literally create works of art and imagine entire worlds and plots inside your head. It sounds interesting to say the least, and it is absolutely fascinating to me. You should show me the things you’ve written sometime.”</p><p>“You want to read my writing?” Bernadetta looks about ready to pass out. Her face turns a ghostly white.</p><p>“I would love to if that’s okay with you,” the blonde replies.</p><p>The meek woman tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She can barely keep her eyes up. “I’ll bring in some of my work next time we hang out. Uh, if you want to hang out again, that is. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“I would love to hang out again. In fact, I look forward to it,” Constance says assuredly.</p><p>At that, Bernadetta beams with joy. “I will too.”</p><p>----</p><p>Constance wakes up to a knocking at her door. Her eyes unwillingly pry themselves open; they burn as she stares at the ceiling. She waits a moment, hoping the knocking will cease. Another knock pesters her. And then another. And another. She groans and rolls out of bed, patting blindly around her room for decent clothes. Panic sets in when she hears the door opening. She runs into the other room half dressed.</p><p>“Mercedes!” She growls, “I was sleeping.”</p><p>“I figured you were.” Her friend shrugs. “That’s why I let myself in.”</p><p>“I could’ve sworn I locked that,” Constance mumbles to herself. “When did I give you a key?”</p><p>“I have no need for a key. You never lock your door. It’s becoming a problem.”</p><p>“Yeah it is. You keep getting in.”</p><p>“To be fair, that wouldn’t stop me. That’s what fire exits are for.”</p><p>She has a point. Constance would hate to wake up and see her friend crawling in through the window, and she wouldn’t put it past her friend to do so.</p><p>“Why are you here? I don’t have school or anything of the sort.”</p><p>“I’m here to drive you to the bus station.”</p><p>“The bus station- oh! Shit,” Constance curses under her breath. Her heart nearly gives out. “I never finished packing!”</p><p>“I’ll help.” Mercedes rushes to the dresser, pulling out any clothes she deems wearable. “How about this for the interview?”</p><p>“As long as it’s not covered in glitter, I can wear it. I’m seeing my father.”</p><p>“Right. Right. Catholic school girl it is. I’ll even pack your plaid skirt.” She starts shoving more clothes into Constance’s suitcase.</p><p>Eventually, the two women manage to get out of the door in one piece. Then, it is a frantic race to the bus station. Mercedes drives which concerns Constance.</p><p>“Oh, look! A flock of geese!”</p><p>“Mercedes, eyes on the road!”</p><p>Mercedes slams on the brakes as she nearly runs a red light directly into four way traffic. Constance breathes a sigh of relief. Her heart races in her chest. She might not even make it to the bus station. When they arrive, Mercedes circles back to the trunk to get her luggage. She pulls out two suitcases, setting them on the pavement.</p><p>“I didn’t pack two suitcases,” Constance says, staring at the luggage in utter confusion.</p><p>“Oh, this one’s for me.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Mercedes, why are there two suitcases?” Constance asks again.</p><p>“I’m coming with you as your emotional support best friend,” Mercedes says as if it were obvious.</p><p>“You bought a ticket to come out to Pittsburgh with me?”</p><p>“Yes.” She nods.</p><p>“Mercedes, I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”</p><p>“I love you too, dear.” Her friend pulls her into a warm hug. She plants a gentle kiss atop her head. Constance has never felt more loved.</p><p>“What about my father?” Constance asks, suddenly struck with worry.</p><p>“Don’t worry. He loves me.”</p><p>“Uh, and what if he doesn’t?”</p><p>“Then, I’ll sleep outside.”</p><p>“In the winter?”</p><p>“Don’t worry. I have my winter coat on.”</p><p>“You’ll freeze!”</p><p>“I’ll survive. For you.”</p><p>“Please don’t get frostbite for me.”</p><p>“I have a hat there is nothing to worry about.”</p><p>As much as the two could argue for hours, they do have a bus to catch. Time grows short. They grab their bags and hurry to the bus.</p><p>----</p><p>Mr. Nuvelle was not expecting to see Mercedes at his door when the two arrived. He stares down at them, a warm smile for Constance and a neutral expression toward Mercedes.</p><p>“Constance, you didn’t tell me you were bringing your friend,” he says.</p><p>“I didn’t know she was coming either. She bought a ticket as a surprise to come with me as my emotional support best friend,” Constance explains, trying to take the edge off her friend, “I really appreciate her coming. I think now I have that job secured for sure.” </p><p>Her father continues his cold stare, only faltering slightly. His thin smile feels disingenuous, but Constance will take it. “That’s very nice of her to do. Unfortunately, we only have one extra bedroom. Mercedes will have to sleep on the couch.”</p><p>“That’s quite alright, Mr. Nuvelle,” Mercedes says with utmost politeness, “I would even sleep outside if I had to.”</p><p>That idea intrigues Mr. Nuvelle. The corner of his lip twitches, but otherwise, he mountains his composure. “I appreciate the sentiment, but that is hardly necessary. Regardless, I do expect you to not get in the way during your stay with us.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t dream of it.”</p><p>“Good girl. Now, please come inside before you run my heating bill any higher. And don’t track snow all over my hardwood floors.”</p><p>Mercedes shivers, but not from the cold. She steps inside beside Constance.</p><p>They end up eating an awkwardly silent dinner. Mr. Nuvelle only made enough for two and refuses to accommodate, so Constance shares with Mercedes out of pity. The chicken is bland even by Constance’s standards. She is left hungry, but barely had an appetite in the first place.</p><p>After dinner, Mr. Nuvelle retreats to his bedroom for some light reading, and Constance welcomes his absence. It gives her a moment to breathe. Her and Mercedes settle on the couch. The cushions are old and stiff. Constance doesn’t understand why her father hates comfort. If he had his way, his daughter would sleep on the floor while Mercedes sleeps outside in the snow.</p><p>The two quietly watch an old western movie. They’re both too tired to get up to change the channel. Constance leans into Mercedes, basking in her warmth. Her friend puts a comforting arm around her. She rubs circles into her shoulder. Finally, Constance starts to feel calm. Then, the exhaustion hits. Her eyes droop, and she lets out a loud yawn.</p><p>“My apologies,” she mumbles. She practically melts into her friend.</p><p>“It’s late,” Mercedes says, fighting back her own yawn, “You’re allowed to be sleepy.”</p><p>By the time Constance awakens, the movie is over. The cowboy rides into the sun with the love of his life, and the credits roll over the screen, making the room go dark. It’s terribly quiet, and Constance cannot help but feel like something is terribly wrong. A sinking feeling lives in the pit of her stomach. The old house creaks and moans around her. She feels a looming presence she cannot see.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Mercedes asks, immediately sensing it.</p><p>“I didn’t realize you were awake,” Constance answers.</p><p>“I had a dream about you, so I woke up to see you. Now, tell me what ails you.” She gently pets Constance’s hair.</p><p>“I’m just nervous about the interview. What if I get the job? I’m not ready for that much responsibility. I don’t want to move to Pittsburgh. I don’t want to leave you, Mercedes. I’m scared.”</p><p>“The only reason you are here is to appease your father and nothing more. I’m here to be your moral support, but I’m also here to tell you to throw those morals out the window.”</p><p>“What could you possibly mean by that?”</p><p>“I’m saying blow the interview on purpose,” Mercedes states.</p><p>Constance gasps in utter shock, “I can’t do that. My father-“</p><p>“Will never find out.”</p><p>“Mercedes, that is highly irresponsible.”</p><p>“Exactly. Do you think I would tell you to do something otherwise?”</p><p>“Mercedes!” She yells at her through a hushed whisper.</p><p>“Coco my dear, I am telling you to do this for your own good. You will be much happier back home with your real family. Not your stupid father.”</p><p>“Quiet! He might hear you.”</p><p>“I hope he does. I know he doesn’t like me, and I have every reason to hold him in contempt regardless of that,” Mercedes says without restraint. Constance finds herself oddly jealous.</p><p>“You may be correct, but I still don’t want you saying anything rash,” she replies.</p><p>“Oh, Coco, I am the least rash person you will ever meet,” her friend assures her.</p><p>“I have known you for years, and I find that very hard to believe,” Constance quips back.</p><p>“Well, maybe you need to be more rash. You should just skip out on the interview completely. Tell your father you went, and then you can’t possibly get the position.”</p><p>Mercedes makes a good point, but there is one fatal flaw in her plan.</p><p>“My father will surely find out. He knows the people interviewing, and he will make a point to ask about it.”</p><p>She taps her chin in thought. “Then, we’ll have to make you as unmarketable as possible in the next two days. That shouldn’t be hard to do. Just be yourself.”</p><p>“Rude.” Constance pouts.</p><p>“I kid! You’re the most wonderful person in the entire world. Everyone should be lining up for the opportunity to have you work for them.”</p><p>“You’re right, but today, you can’t be right. I really don’t want that job.”</p><p>“Don’t sweat it, Coco. You’ll be fine. I promise. There’s no way you’re getting that job.”</p><p>“I hope you’re right,” Constance sighs. She leans into her friend.</p><p>Mercedes brings a comforting arm around the other woman. “I’m always right.”</p><p>----</p><p>Finally, the day comes to leave. Constance has been counting down the days since she arrived at her father’s house. Being there another second longer would surely push Constance over the edge. She wakes up early with the sun. The exhaustion weighs on her body, but sheer determination gets her out of bed. Mercedes meets her downstairs, luggage in hand. The two wait by the coffee maker.</p><p>“I’m ready to get out of here,” Constance says, mixing her creamer into her coffee.</p><p>Mercedes adds too much sugar to her own. “And hopefully never come back.”</p><p>“I wish.”</p><p>“You have no reason to come back.”</p><p>“He’ll find one. He always does.”</p><p>By this time, Mr. Nuvelle joins them downstairs. His footsteps are heavy on the steps. Constance tenses as he enters the kitchen. They exchange formalities and leave it at that. Mr. Nuvelle wordlessly strides to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup. The three stand in an awkward silence for what feels like forever. Constance taps her fingers on her mug.</p><p>“It’s quite the storm out there.” Mr. Nuvelle finally breaks the silence. “It would be a shame if your trip home got cancelled.”</p><p>“Storm? What storm?” It never occurred to Constance to check the weather. She rushes to the window and throws the drapes open. Indeed, outside is as white as a sheet. The snow falls faster than the snowplows can clean it up. Constance cannot see the other side of the street.</p><p>“I refuse to drive you to the bus station in this weather. We’ll surely get in a crash. I don’t want to freeze to death. Just stay until this is over.”</p><p>“But we have to get back home,” Constance says.</p><p>“This is your home, Constance.” Not that it feels like it. Part of her would rather freeze in the cold than stay a day longer.</p><p>The snow comes down harder, trapping everyone inside the house. A howling wind blows outside, and suddenly, the lights go out.</p><p>“I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” Mercedes says.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being back home feels like heaven. Constance will take back-to-back open to closing shifts any day of the week if it means not going back to her father. There is a skip in her step as the two women walk to the car. Constance struggles to lift her heavy bag into the trunk. It falls in place with a crash. Mercedes shoves in her own bag with much more ease. The trunk slams shut.</p>
<p>“We should go to the record store,” Mercedes says suddenly.</p>
<p>“The record store?” Constance flinches. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Why? Do I even need to give you a reason? Usually you’re foaming at the mouth when I mention the place.”</p>
<p>“I mean usually, yes. I look forward to every opportunity to visit, but we just got off a long bus trip. I’m exhausted both mentally and physically. Also, I need a shower.”</p>
<p>“You smell fine. Let’s just go.”</p>
<p>“What about our stuff? We can’t just leave it in the car.”</p>
<p>“If someone goes through all the trouble to rob my car, they probably need that stuff more than I do,” Mercedes says, “And just between you and me, I really don’t own anything worth stealing.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Constance can say the same.</p>
<p>With that, her friend turns the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life.</p>
<p>“Mercedes, wait. I need fresh clothes first. I’m still wearing my father-friendly clothing.” That will delay the inevitable for a bit.</p>
<p>“You wanna look good for your girlfriend? How cute.”</p>
<p>“Please be quiet.” Constance plays with her hair to hide her obvious blush.</p>
<p>“You’re not denying it,” Mercedes says with a gasp, “I knew you two were dating!”</p>
<p>“We’re not dating!”</p>
<p>“What? How? I’ve seen you two kiss.”</p>
<p>“We’re just friends, Mercie. Nothing more.”</p>
<p>“Friends that really <i>really</i> need to fuck each other.” She rolls her eyes.</p>
<p>“Mercedes! You can’t just say that.” Constance turns a bright red.</p>
<p>“I’m teasing you.” Mercedes lightly slaps her on the shoulder. “However, that doesn’t make my statement any less true.”</p>
<p>Eventually, Mercedes manages to drag Constance to the record store. It sits there the same as ever except much darker. The memories start flooding in, and a painful longing tugs at her chest. Constance wants nothing more than to go inside, but nervousness nags at her. She is scared of seeing Hapi again after so long. Still, the siren’s call is hard to resist, and Mercedes has the stubbornness of a bull.</p>
<p>“C’mon!” She tugs at her friend’s arm with an inhuman strength. “Let’s get in there. I need new CD’s for the car.”</p>
<p>“Mercie, there’s no lights on. I think the store is closed.” Constance protests still.</p>
<p>“Then, let’s check.”</p>
<p>“But it’s cold out.”</p>
<p>“She’ll let us in. If not, I know how to pick a lock.”</p>
<p>“Mercedes!”</p>
<p>Whether or not Constance follows, Mercedes is going into that store. She steps out of the vehicle and strides toward the entrance. Constance has no choice but to follow. She has no reason to be nervous. Right? Wrong. There is always a reason to be nervous.</p>
<p>They walk up to the door. The store is dark, and the signs are flicked off. Mercedes peers inside. A dim light comes from the back of the store, barely visible. Constance almost misses it.</p>
<p>“She’s in there still!” Mercedes observes, pressing her face against the glass of the window. “Let’s go in.”</p>
<p>“Let’s not.”</p>
<p>“I’m doing it.”</p>
<p>“Mercedes!”</p>
<p>She turns the doorknob. To her surprise, it swings open, and the bell rings with it. “It looks like Hapi has the same bad habit you do.”</p>
<p>“You’re not going in are you?” Constance asks, absolutely appalled.</p>
<p>“Don’t ask silly questions.” Her friend steps in. Constance has no choice but to follow.</p>
<p>They walk inside. There is no sign of life besides the sole light coming from the back room. Constance hears muffled music in the distance. It beckons to her. She really did miss the place. And Hapi. Even if she has been nervously avoiding her.</p>
<p>“Hapi! We’re here!” Mercedes calls out, prancing excitedly toward the back room. Constance follows quietly. She fidgets with the hair tie on her wrist. Anxiety creeps up on her, but she tries to shake it off. She has no reason to worry. The door creaks open, and a certain redhead peeks out. Her eyes are red and drooping as if she just woke up.</p>
<p>“Mercedes!” She sounds surprised if not a little tired. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“We finally got back from our honeymoon. I thought we would drop by and say hi.”</p>
<p>Hapi smiles; she has such a beautiful smile. “Oh, neat.”</p>
<p>“And I brought someone special.” Mercedes drags her friend in front of her.</p>
<p>“Constance!” The redhead beams. “It’s been too long. I missed you.”</p>
<p>She cannot hold herself back from hugging the woman. She squeezes Constance tight enough to choke her. Constance hugs her back, and she finds herself on the brink of tears.</p>
<p>“I missed you too.” She stares down at the floor, unable to look her friend in the eye. A skunky smell stings her nose.</p>
<p>“You guys should come sit down.” Hapi tugs at Constance’s arm. “We can talk about stuff and listen to music and have fun.”</p>
<p>She succeeds at dragging her victim into the room. Luckily for her, Constance does not mind being pushed around. Immediately, the smell gets stronger. The two scented candles on the coffee table do a terrible job at masking it. Constance wrinkles her nose. Mercedes eyes the dirty bong sitting in the middle of the table on display.</p>
<p>“So this is how you spend your time while we’re away,” she muses.</p>
<p>“I was bored and snowed inside my own store for two whole days. Can you blame me?” Hapi retorts. “You don’t get customers when the door is frozen shut.”</p>
<p>“I’m not blaming you. I was asking you if we could join.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Her eyes flicker with interest. She gestures to the bong on the table. “Well, be my guest. Do I have to teach you how?”</p>
<p>“No need.” Mercedes takes a confident forward, and takes the pipe like it’s no one’s business. A cloud of smoke puffs out of her nose. She lets out a satisfied sigh. “That is just what I needed. Thank you, Hapi.”</p>
<p>“My pleasure.”</p>
<p>Constance cannot believe the scene before her eyes. “Mercedes! What on earth are you doing?”</p>
<p>Mercedes shrugs. “I’m smoking weed. Isn’t it obvious?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you didn’t have to smoke like you’ve been doing it for years.”</p>
<p>“But I have. You didn’t know?”</p>
<p>“I did not!”</p>
<p>Hapi looks between the two, overjoyed by their banter.</p>
<p>“You’ve tried it before,” Mercedes says, “Everyone has.”</p>
<p>Constance stares at her wide eyed. “How did you find that out?”</p>
<p>Her friend grins mischievously. “You just told me.”</p>
<p>“Mercedes, that was cruel!”</p>
<p>“She’s done it twice, actually,” Hapi adds in helpfully.</p>
<p>“Your assistance is <i>not</i> needed here,” Constance hisses through her teeth, delivering a harsh blow to Hapi’s midsection. The other woman giggles.</p>
<p>“So are we doing this or not?” Mercedes asks, rubbing her hands together, “I wanna see my darling Constance high as a kite.”</p>
<p>“You’re gonna love her when she’s high. It’s like giving her steroids,” Hapi says.</p>
<p>“Hapi!” Constance whines again. “Stop it.”</p>
<p>“You stop being a dummy and smoke some weed with me. You gotta be exhausted after spending so much time with your old man.” She bumps her onto the couch. Constance falls into the pillows. Mercedes sits next to her, eagerly watching. With no other option, Constance takes the bong, not remembering at all how to smoke it. Her hands shake slightly as she takes ahold of the glass. The water sloshes around in the bottle, already blackened. A dark side of Constance wonders what it tastes like.</p>
<p>“Do you know how to do it?” Hapi asks genuinely, “I can show you.”</p>
<p>“I know how to do it,” the blonde lies under her breath.</p>
<p>“Just don’t blow.”</p>
<p>“I knew that.” She figures her best bet is breathing in and seeing what happens. And she does just so, inhaling a large cloud of smoke into her mouth. The smoke burns in her lungs, and the bitter taste lingers on her tongue. She keeps her cool as best she can, which is not well. Almost immediately, she coughs it out, sending the cloud out her nose. Her face burns hot, and her eyes water. Mercedes giggles at her, obviously amused by her friend’s misfortune.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you show me since you’re such an expert?” Constance huffs, shoving it toward her friend.</p>
<p>“With pleasure.” Mercedes takes it eagerly. “Watch and learn.”</p>
<p>She takes a deep breath, handling it with ease. Slowly, she lets out the smoke, enjoying the moment while it lasts. She looks incredibly comfortable. Constance eyes her suspiciously the entire time while also taking mental notes.</p>
<p>“You’re practically a professional,” Hapi says. Constance feels a ping of jealousy as the woman fawns over her best friend.</p>
<p>“What about me?” She asks, desperately needing attention.</p>
<p>Hapi laughs and pats her on the back reassuringly. “You have quite a ways to go, but you have potential. Just more reason for you to come over and practice.”</p>
<p>Her touch sends shivers down Constance’s back. She is so gentle yet deliberate. Constance catches herself staring at the woman, but does not care enough to stop. Before she knows it, she is being pulled onto the other woman’s lap. Two arms wrap around her abdomen, and Hapi’s head comes to rest on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“You two are cute,” Mercedes coos at them, interrupting their moment.</p>
<p>“Of course we are! I’m cute as fuck,” Hapi boasts, making it worse.</p>
<p>Constance feels a warm blush forming on her cheeks. She is too high to care. “You heard her. She’s cute as fuck.”</p>
<p>“You fucking dykes,” Mercedes says with her usual lilt. Constance ignores her.</p>
<p>“You caught me,” Hapi answers with a nonchalant shrug.</p>
<p>Mercedes closes her eyes and leans back in the couch. She listens intently to the music playing quietly on the stereo. “This is nice. I can see why you hang out here so much, Coco.”</p>
<p>“Who wouldn’t wanna hang out here?” Constance replies.</p>
<p>“Me.” Hapi butts in.</p>
<p>The woman squints at her. “You live here.”</p>
<p>“I don’t. I just spend most of my time here. There’s a difference.”</p>
<p>The song fades out, leaving a small moment of silence before the next tune plays. Constance takes this moment to breathe. Again, the room fills with sweet music. Constance sings along joyfully, knowing the song well. Hapi knows exactly what to play when she visits. It was only a few months ago her and Constance were getting high on this same couch. So much has changed since then, but she is still here.</p>
<p>
  <i>Oh I wanna dance with somebody<br/>I wanna feel the heat with somebody<br/>Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody<br/>With somebody who loves me</i>
</p>
<p>Constance sings along at the top of her lungs without a care in the world. She hops up and holds her hand out to Hapi. “C’mon. Dance with me! Don’t let Whitney Houston down.”</p>
<p>Hapi shakes her head. “I’ll pass.”</p>
<p>“More for me, then.” Mercedes jumps on the opportunity. She takes her friend by the hand and stands up. She spins Constance around and dips her. They stay like that, staring into each other’s eyes. Both women break out laughing. They dance and sway to the beat. Hapi watches them from the couch.</p>
<p>Eventually, the high wears off, and the two women crash onto the couch on either side of Hapi. Constance leans into her friend, half asleep. Mercedes lets out a loud yawn and sinks into the cushions. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she dozes off. She curls up in the corner of the couch like a cat. Constance yawns, but wills herself to stay awake. Hapi casually slips her hand into hers.</p>
<p>“Hey, Hapi?” Constance calls out quietly, still lost in her own thoughts.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” The other woman seems to be falling asleep too. Her head bobs, and her eyes droop.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you ever talk about your past with me?” Constance asks gently. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”</p>
<p>Hapi subconsciously squeezes her hand tight. “There really isn’t anything to know. I’m not that interesting.”</p>
<p>“I want to know.”</p>
<p>“Why do you think I make myself so busy, Coco? I’m trying to forget about all that.”</p>
<p>Her discomfort is obvious. Constance senses it immediately. “Is it working?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Would talking about it help?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to force you to help, but I think talking about it would help you. Confide in me, Hapi. Let me help you,” Constance insists.</p>
<p>Hapi sighs, “Well, how can you help?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I don’t know,” the blonde answers quietly, “I just want to help you, and if the most I can be is a shoulder to lean on, then so be it.”</p>
<p>“It’s best you don’t know.” Her words are ominous, a warning. Constance ignores it.</p>
<p>“Just talk to me, Hapi. You can trust me with anything. I trust you. More importantly, I lo-“ She quickly swallows that word. “I care about you more than anything.”</p>
<p>Hapi rubs her face. “Where would I even begin?”</p>
<p>“Maybe tell me why you ran away from home?”</p>
<p>“Shit, you remember I told you that?”</p>
<p>“I remember everything about you,” Constance says.</p>
<p>She gets a slight smile out of the woman. “You really care about me, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Of course I do.”</p>
<p>“That’s kinda gay,” Hapi teases.</p>
<p>“You’re changing the subject.”</p>
<p>“I know. Talking is hard, Coco.”</p>
<p>“Take your time. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Constance says.</p>
<p>“Fine. I guess you were gonna find out eventually,” Hapi begins, taking a deep breath, “My dad was an alcoholic.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry to hear that.”</p>
<p>“No. Fuck him. He never cared about me, even if he was sober. He let out all his anger on me my whole life. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving was my only option.” Hapi’s voice falls to a whisper. Her hands tremble. Constance takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly.</p>
<p>“That’s horrible.” She feels a ping of regret in her chest.</p>
<p>“If you think that’s horrible,” Hapi continues, a fake laugh falling from her lips, “Wait ‘til you hear the rest of my life.”</p>
<p>“You can tell me as much as you want, Hapi. I’m always here for you.”</p>
<p>“What’s there to say? Talking about it won’t bring my mom back. It won’t heal my scars.”</p>
<p>Constance can feel her heart breaking. She can only imagine how horrible Hapi feels. She sits up to hug the woman close. Tears start to form. Hapi goes quiet. Constance feels guilty. This is all her fault. She decided to dig up the past.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Hapi apologizes. “I don’t wanna relive this again. I have enough reminders.”</p>
<p>The music stops as the album ends, making the room silent besides the faint crackling of the candles. The air goes tense. Hapi scratches nervously at her wrist. Constance now notices the faded scars purposefully hidden by tattoos.</p>
<p>“It’s okay now. They’re not here anymore. You have your real family with us now.” Constance squeezes her tightly. She never wants to let go. The tears start falling. “From now on, we just have the future to look forward to.”</p>
<p>Hapi hugs her back. “I hope you’re right.”</p>
<p>A long pause.</p>
<p>“Ugh, I’m sorry for getting all emotional on you.”</p>
<p>“Hapi, it’s fine. You’re allowed to experience emotions.”</p>
<p>“I know. It just sucks. That’s enough vulnerability for today. I need a nap.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Constance wakes up to a quiet room. It feels empty. She glances to the other end of the couch to see Mercedes missing. The sun peeks through the blinds, leaving a trail of light on the wall in front of her. She feels a pressure on her side, scaring her a bit. Hapi leans into her; her arms wrap around her middle. Her breathing is slow and calm.</p>
<p>“Are you awake?” Hapi mutters as she feels her friend stirring. She fights back a yawn.</p>
<p>“No.” Comes her answer.</p>
<p>The woman chuckles. “You can stay here if you want, but I’m going out for a run.”</p>
<p>Constance sits up. “Why on earth would you do that? It is much too early in the morning, and much too cold.”</p>
<p>“I run because I might as well have one good coping mechanism. Also, this ass doesn’t look this good on its own. Early morning is the best time to run. There’s less people around,” she answers. “I usually run earlier, but I wanted to make sure you were awake so you knew I was coming back.”</p>
<p>“And you call me weird,” the tired woman huffs. She settles back into the blankets. “At least I don’t willingly freeze myself.”</p>
<p>Hapi ignores the comment. She shrugs Constance off her and stands up. “I’ll see you later.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” Constance whines.</p>
<p>Her friend stops in the doorway. “Yes, dear?”</p>
<p>“Where’s Mercedes? She didn’t die, did she?”</p>
<p>“She said she had somewhere to be and left a while ago.”</p>
<p>“Okay, good.” Constance plants herself back into the couch. Hapi takes her cue to leave. The door clicks softly behind her.</p>
<p>“Wait. She was my ride.” Constance smacks her forehead in frustration. Oh, well. She’ll find another way home.</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>Life finally goes back to normal the next couple of days. Constance, as usual, spends most of her time working. She still makes time to spend at the record store.</p>
<p>The bell rings, and the familiar scent of dust tickles at her nose. That can mean one of two things: Hapi got a new shipment or has ignored her sweeping responsibilities since they last met. Constance lets out a hearty sneeze. It is loud enough to grab the attention of a certain someone.</p>
<p>“Constance?” A voice calls to her. “Is that you?”</p>
<p>“It’s me. Where are you?” Constance answers back</p>
<p>“Behind the counter. Come check this out.”</p>
<p>With her curiosity piqued, Constance walks over to the counter to find Hapi bent over what appears to be an amplifier, or at least what used to be one. The back is busted open with wires splaying everywhere. Hapi carefully pieces the wires back together.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Constance asks.</p>
<p>Hapi gently places her work down, lightly electrocuting herself in the process. She turns to her. “You’re gonna love this. Come look.”</p>
<p>She motions for the woman to join her behind the counter. A set of tools litter the floor in front of her. Constance stares at them, only able to recognize a couple screwdrivers. She steps carefully over them to crouch next to Hapi. A loose screw pokes into her shoe.</p>
<p>“What is all this?” She questions her again, still horribly confused by the whole ordeal.</p>
<p>“I got these at a garage sale for twenty bucks,” Hapi explains excitedly, “It’s gonna take some work, but I think I can fix them up just like new.”</p>
<p>“Interesting,” Constance hums, “But why are you doing all this on the floor?”</p>
<p>“I don’t wanna take up all the counter space. Plus, I don’t want customers seeing all this mess.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” She purses her lips. “So why are you doing this at all? You have no need for an amplifier.”</p>
<p>“Were you not listening, Coco?” The redhead looks at her in disbelief. “This stuff cost me twenty bucks! That’s an amazing deal. Normally, an amp like this would cost about three hundred at least.”</p>
<p>“Are you gonna sell it once you fix it?” Constance wonders.</p>
<p>Hapi gasps, “Why would I sell off all my hard work! I’m gonna keep it and use it.”</p>
<p>“But you have nothing to use it with.”</p>
<p>She wags a finger at her friend. “That’s where you’re wrong. Check this out.”</p>
<p>She slides a long case off a shelf and pushes it to the woman. Constance runs her hand along the rough black surface. The case holds itself together with rusty clasps just aching to break at any moment. The wear shows from years of use. She knows what this case is for, yet the possibilities of what is inside are endless. The clasps open with a short snap. Constance lifts it open in eager anticipation. Inside sits a beat up electric bass guitar. All but one of the strings are missing, and the paint is horribly scratched, with more wear than there is paint. It is bumped and bruised and in desperate need of attention. In short, Constance loves it more than anything in the world. Excitement swells up inside her, and her body longs for something so precious to her in the past.</p>
<p>“I love her,” she gasps. Good memories flood back into her mind. She runs a gentle hand down the neck of the instrument, tracing her finger over the grooves in the wood. “Please tell me you’re fixing this up too.”</p>
<p>Hapi nods. “Although, I think I’m gonna give this one away.”</p>
<p>“What?” Constance looks at her worried. “How could you get rid of her? She’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>“I’m gonna give her to someone who will cherish it more than I ever could.”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“Why, I mean you, miss musician.”</p>
<p>“Me? Why me? I haven’t played the bass in years.”</p>
<p>“Think of it as a sign to pick it back up again.” Hapi grins. “Who knows, maybe it’ll go somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Oh, please. My father would kill me if I told him I wanted to be a musician,” Constance replies.</p>
<p>“Well, do you?” Hapi asks. The question is simple, but Constance has no idea where to even begin answering it. It hangs in the air in front of her mocking her.</p>
<p>“It’s silly,” Constance says, “When I was in middle school, I really wanted to be a musician and play in a band.”</p>
<p>“Then, this is definitely a sign you should start playing again.”</p>
<p>“I can’t!”</p>
<p>“Not even as a hobby?”</p>
<p>She makes a good point. Constance ponders it for a moment. “I suppose I could play for fun. It doesn’t have to be serious.”</p>
<p>“Exactly. You’re allowed to have hobbies.”</p>
<p>Constance agrees with her, and Hapi goes back to work, busying her hands with the mess of wires in front of her. A box of radio tubes sits next to her. She bites her tongue as she fastens a wire to a board. It is fascinating to watch, even if Constance has no idea what is going on. She makes herself comfortable on the floor, regretting her choice to wear a skirt today.</p>
<p>“When did you start playing bass?” Hapi makes idle conversation as she works. She hisses as she accidentally electrocutes herself. She unplugs the amplifier and continues working.</p>
<p>“Middle school,” Constance responds, “I really wanted to play the bass in my school’s jazz band. My dad didn’t want me to, but my mom convinced him otherwise. She even taught me how to play.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t wanna play the trumpet like every other kid? You seem like the type who would.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” She crosses her arms and glares at her.</p>
<p>“I’m joking.”</p>
<p>“The trumpet is overrated anyway. The bass sounds so much better. You can’t have a song without it.”</p>
<p>“I kinda like the drums the best, personally.” Hapi says as she screws a tube into the board. “Never had enough money for lessons, though. My parents said to join softball instead.”</p>
<p>“And did you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I was really bad at it, but I got to hang around a lot of girls.” Hapi flexes. “And it gave me these. Which was also a hit with the girls in case you were wondering.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t, but thank you for telling me,” Constance answers, obviously distracted by the other woman’s musculature. “So why do you like the drums so much?”</p>
<p>“They sound cool.” The redhead grins. “Just imagine how cool I’d look playing them.”<br/>Her arms swing around to mimic a drum solo. Constance laughs.</p>
<p>“I’ll leave the drums to you. I’ll stick to my bass.”</p>
<p>“Maybe one day I’ll be able to afford a cool drum set.” The woman drools over the thought. “Then, we can form a band.”</p>
<p>“A band? Hapi, you said this would stay a hobby. Nothing more.”</p>
<p>“We can play with the thought. As a hobby,” Hapi says innocently.</p>
<p>“I suppose we could,” Constance hums. Her mind starts to wander.</p>
<p>“Let’s name our band something cool like the Sex Pistols.”</p>
<p>“That one’s taken.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Right.” Hapi taps her chin in thought. “How about, um, something more vulgar like Thunder Pussy.”</p>
<p>“Ew, no. I would prefer something more normal sounding,” Constance says, visibly gagging at Hapi’s suggestion.</p>
<p>“Well, you got any better ideas?”</p>
<p>“Anything is better than Thunder Pussy.”</p>
<p>“Hey! Show some respect for my Thunder Pussy! It’s a good name.”</p>
<p>“Hapi, you have the sense of humor of a teenage boy.”</p>
<p>“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”</p>
<p>Neither of them notice the bell ringing. The door swings open. Confident footsteps click against the wood floor, heading straight for the front counter. “Hello?”</p>
<p>Hapi’s eyes go wide. For a brief second, Constance catches a glimpse of worry on her face. She quickly shakes it off, returning to her usual casual demeanor.</p>
<p>“I would recognize that slutty tone anywhere!” Hapi stands up promptly. Constance drags herself up with her. A woman stands at the other side of the counter, looking quite out of place. Her pink hair is bright enough to light up the entire room. There is a fierce look in her eyes, and something disingenuous hiding behind her smile. Constance can swear she has seen this woman before, but cannot name when or where.</p>
<p>“There you are, whore.” The woman smiles. She does not seem to notice Constance, but Constance gets the sense this woman simply does not care.</p>
<p>“Oh, Hilda, you haven’t changed a bit,” Hapi says, leaning against the counter.</p>
<p>“I’d say the same, but it seems you dyed your hair.”</p>
<p>She runs a hand through her own hair as if to show off. “Red is kinda my color now. All the cool kids are doing it these days.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of cool kids, who’s this fine young woman standing next to you? Your new plaything perhaps?” Hilda looks Constance up and down like a judge at a dog show. Constance certainly does not feel prize-worthy in front of this woman. She shrinks down.</p>
<p>“Plaything is not how I would like you to refer to my best friend,” Hapi answers, “Hilda, this is Constance. Constance, this is Hilda. She’s a, uh, an old friend of mine.”</p>
<p>The pause in her words worries Constance. Jealousy eats at her stomach. However, she still manages to force a smile. Hilda finally acknowledges her as a human being.</p>
<p>“An old friend, hmm? Is that what you’re calling them these days?” Hilda hums. There is a bite hidden behind her words. Constance can feel it in the pit of her stomach.</p>
<p>Hapi keeps her cool. “It was one time, Hilda. And it surely wasn’t a night to remember.”</p>
<p>“Wow! I top for the first time in my entire life and you deem it forgettable? This is why we lost touch.”</p>
<p>“No. We lost touch because you moved away to New York City to be a bigtime model.”</p>
<p>“Oh, right.” Hilda grins. “I kinda made the cover of Vogue.”</p>
<p><i>That’s</i> where she recognizes her from. Shit.</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you, Constance. I guess.” She looks the woman up and down. Constance suddenly feels nervous as if she has to impress this gorgeous woman.</p>
<p>“Hi.” Is all she can respond with. She wants to say so much more, but the words refuse to leave her mouth. She silently curses herself for looking like an idiot.</p>
<p>“What are you doing in town anyway?” Hapi asks, sensing the tension between the two. “Shouldn’t you be in New York City or travelling overseas for some fancy photoshoot or something like that?”</p>
<p>“I could ask you the same thing.” Hilda leans on the counter. “I’m in town for a couple weeks on business. Thought I could catch up with everyone. You know our high school reunion is coming up, right?”</p>
<p>“I had no idea.”</p>
<p>“Of course you didn’t.”</p>
<p>“I barely keep up with anyone from high school besides Yuri.” Hapi stands up a bit straighter. “I have no reason to be going.”</p>
<p>“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Hilda asks curiously. She perks an eyebrow at her, briefly glancing at Constance.</p>
<p>The redhead bites her lip. “I was gonna hang out here with Coco.”</p>
<p>Hilda rolls her eyes. “And you wonder why we lost touch. You’re always cooped up in here. Come have fun. Catch up with your old friends.”</p>
<p>Many questions nag at Constance, but she cannot ask them even if she wanted too. Hilda seems to have forgotten she existed.</p>
<p>“Friends?” Hapi questions.</p>
<p>“I invited Claude.”</p>
<p>Constance hopes that’s Hilda’s boyfriend.</p>
<p>Hapi lights up. “Claude? I haven’t heard from him in forever.”</p>
<p>“Because you never make any effort to be friends with anyone except Na-”</p>
<p>“That’s not their name.”</p>
<p>“Yuri. Whatever. You already know who I’m talking about.” Hilda waves her hand dismissively. “My point still stands. You need to leave the house more.”</p>
<p>“I’m busy working. I don’t have time to leave.”</p>
<p>“Well, you don’t get a choice tonight. I already made reservations.”</p>
<p>“Reservations?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Reservations. Make sure you dress up too.” Hilda looks the woman over. “It’s a nice restaurant, and you’re all covered in grease.”</p>
<p>Hapi pulls at her shirt to get a good look at it. Her shirt is stained all over. “Son of a bitch.”</p>
<p>“Meet me there at seven.” Hilda writes a note down. “Here’s the address.”</p>
<p>They chat for a moment longer as Constance stews in her own jealousy. Time passes painfully slow. She settles for doodling in Hapi’s notebook; it hardly helps her tune them out. Finally, to Constance’s relief, Hilda leaves. The bell rings, and the door clicks shut. Constance feels herself relax. Hapi slumps back down to the floor.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” she hisses.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Constance asks.</p>
<p>“I don’t own anything nice.” Hapi looks up at her with puppy eyes. “Can I borrow something of yours? All your clothes are so pretty even if you dress like a grandma.”</p>
<p>“I don’t dress like a grandma.”</p>
<p>“A hot grandma! You make it work.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Constance crosses her arms. “But do you even want to go?”</p>
<p>“Hilda would kill me if I ditched her.” Hapi pouts. “Please, Constance? I don’t know how to dress myself.”</p>
<p>The blonde huffs, “Fine, but you owe me.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, babe.”</p>
<p>They end up at Constance’s apartment with two hours to get ready. It’s fine; Constance works well under pressure. At least she keeps telling herself that. Hapi, already familiar with the place, makes herself comfortable on the bed. She props herself up on her elbows and watches the woman go to work. Constance opens her closet. A large display of dresses greets her, all organized by color and occasion. Not that she ever has an occasion for anything except work. She kicks a pair of heels out of the way.</p>
<p>“Oh, god. You wear those things?” Hapi gawks.</p>
<p>“Heels? Of course I do. Most women do,” Constance says.</p>
<p>“I guess that makes sense. You need them so you can reach my height,” her friend teases her.</p>
<p>“You’re not that much taller than me.”</p>
<p>“I’m at least three inches taller than you.”</p>
<p>“We have more important things to be discussing right now.” Constance turns back to the closet. She runs her hands through the various garments. “So what do you usually wear?”</p>
<p>“Flannel. A leather jacket.”</p>
<p>“For formal wear, you dimwit.”</p>
<p>“Flannel. A leather jacket.”</p>
<p>“That’s not formal wear.”</p>
<p>Hapi rolls onto her back, staring at Constance upside-down. Her hair cascades down the side of the mattress. “I’ve never been to a wedding or anything. I don’t have the type of friends to get married anyway. I didn’t go to my high school graduation either. I figure I’m supposed to wear a dress or something.”</p>
<p>Constance smacks her in the head with a dress. “Put this on.”</p>
<p>Hapi rolls off the bed. Her pants fall to her ankles in a wild display. She shakes them off with her feet. She rips her shirt off soon after, giving Constance a clear view of the tattoo on her back. Hapi does not seem to notice her staring. Carefully, she steps into the dress. It doesn’t reach past her chest. She tries to pull it up, but it won’t budge.</p>
<p>Constance watches amusedly as the woman struggles with the dress. After a moment of struggling, Constance decides to put her out of her misery.</p>
<p>“Try the zipper,” she says.</p>
<p>“The what?” Hapi stares at her in confusion.</p>
<p>“You were serious when you said you don’t wear dresses, huh?”</p>
<p>“I’m used to taking them off, not on.”</p>
<p>Now, it’s Constance’s turn to look at her in confusion. “Why would you- oh. You’re gross.”</p>
<p>She takes a step closer to unzip the dress. It falls open, allowing Hapi to slide it on easily. Constance glides the fabric along her sides. A slight blush rests on her face as she touches the woman. She studies her back intimately, her fingers dipping into the curves of her body, tracing over the lines of her tattoo.</p>
<p>“How’s it look?” Hapi asks, checking herself out in the mirror, “I think my legs look amazing.”</p>
<p>Constance untucks the woman’s hair, letting it fall down her back like a red waterfall.</p>
<p>“Spin around,” she instructs.</p>
<p>Hapi obliges, whipping herself around quickly. The dress lifts up a bit as she turns, giving Constance a better view. She examines her figure thoroughly. She can see everything in this dress. Hapi’s flannels look nice, but this is absolutely gorgeous. Her breath hitches at the sight of her legs. Her blush deepens.</p>
<p>“Are these things supposed to be so tight?” Hapi checks out her backside in the mirror. “I never realized my ass was this nice. The front is pretty good too. Maybe I should show off the goods more often.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Constance nods absentmindedly, her eyes trailing down once more.</p>
<p>“At least you get a good view.” Hapi winks. “Stop drooling.” By the look on Hapi’s face, she can tell that the comment is directed at her. Constance shakes it off.</p>
<p>“Don’t be so full of yourself,” she dismisses her. She quickly averts her eyes.</p>
<p>“I can be in this dress.” Hapi grins, checking herself out in the mirror again. “I look sexy as hell.”</p>
<p>“Just wait until we do your makeup. I’m sure you’ll find yourself even more attractive.”</p>
<p>The woman frowns. “Do I have to?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Constance lies. Secretly, she is dying to put makeup on the other woman. Getting to examine Hapi’s face closely, the intense intimacy of it all; she craves it desperately. She tosses her makeup bag onto the bed and hops on with it. The bed bounces slightly. She eagerly pats the space next to her. Hapi stares at her a moment, seeming hesitant. Constance only continues her patting. Finally, Hapi climbs onto the bed, settling on her knees.</p>
<p>“Okay, I’m ready.” She closes her eyes and braces herself.</p>
<p>Constance pulls out a cream and starts patting her face with it. Hapi squirms the entire time, not enjoying it for a second. It’s like giving a cat a bath but with less claws.</p>
<p>“Keep still,” Constance huffs.</p>
<p>“No. This is weird.”</p>
<p>She takes the other’s woman’s face between her hands. “Hapi, the more you protest, the longer this will take.”</p>
<p>“I think you just enjoy watching me suffer,” Hapi says, refusing to back down.</p>
<p>A sly smile spreads on Constance’s face. “Maybe I do.”</p>
<p>“You heathen!”</p>
<p>She pins Hapi down to keep her from wiggling.</p>
<p>“I’m almost done. Calm down.” Constance presses down harder, using her body weight to keep her still. Hapi refuses, squirming away like a cat wanting to be set down. Constance ends up pushing her down onto the bed, straddling her hips to keep her from moving. Suddenly, Hapi gets very quiet. She stays still, and the blonde gets back to work once more.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna poke my eye out,” she protests, “My eyelashes look fine. Back off.”</p>
<p>“But, Hapi, you’ll look so cute.” Constance pouts. “Please let me do it.”</p>
<p>“Is that supposed to change my mind?”</p>
<p>“Stop being a baby. You made it through eyeliner. Mascara is nothing. Close your eyes again.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Hapi groans. She closes her eyes and prepares for the worst.</p>
<p>Constance leans back in to finish her job. She bites her tongue as she focuses. Her hand stays steady as she curls the woman’s eyelashes. Hapi stays perfectly still, not enjoying any of the ordeal. Their faces are incredibly still.</p>
<p>“You look beautiful,” Constance whispers. And kissable, but she won’t mention that part.</p>
<p>Hapi’s eyes flutter open. Constance has never seen them so close. She notices a freckle in the dark browns on her irises.</p>
<p>“Are you going to kiss me?” Hapi asks.</p>
<p>“W-what kind of question is that?” Constance squeaks.</p>
<p>“I dunno. Usually if I’m in a position like this, it means I’m gonna get kissed.”</p>
<p>“I’m just doing your makeup,” she says, hastily sitting up. She turns her head to hide the obvious blush on her face. “This position was purely for vantage.”</p>
<p>“If you say so.”</p>
<p>“I just need to choose a lipstick color.”</p>
<p>“I thought you said we were almost done.”</p>
<p>“This is the last step. I promise.” Constance reaches in her pouch for the final piece. “I’m gonna give you one of my favorites, so be nice.”</p>
<p>“Red? Why can’t it be black? I wanna look goth,” Hapi says with a pout.</p>
<p>“You’re already wearing a black dress.” The cap pops off, and Constance twists the lipstick higher. “Just give this a try. I bet you’ll love how it comes out.”</p>
<p>“Wait.” She stops her. “Let me do it. I already know how.”</p>
<p>Constance eyes her suspiciously. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Please?” Hapi begs.</p>
<p>Constance contemplates for a moment. She gives in and hands over the lipstick. “Now what?”</p>
<p>“Close your eyes.”</p>
<p>She obliges, despite her confusion. She waits patiently for Hapi to signal to her to open her eyes. There is a long silence, and she tries to listen for any indications of something going horribly wrong. Instead, two hands come to rest on each side of her face. Her entire body tenses with fear, but she doesn't dare open her eyes. Then. she feels a pair of lips press hard against her cheek. Red hair tickles her nose. Her eyes fly open.</p>
<p>“Hapi, what are you doing?” she asks nervously.</p>
<p>The woman pulls away, admiring her work. She keeps a hand on Constance's chin, and her thumb runs across the other woman’s lower lip. “I put too much on. I had to wipe it off.”</p>
<p>Constance turns to look in the mirror. A messy lipstick mark stains her cheek. Her face burns hotter than a volcano.</p>
<p>“I think I’m changing my mind on the color,” Hapi comments casually, “It looks really cute on you. Although, it’s starting to blend in with your skin.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you like the color.” Constance struggles to keep herself together. “I’m sure Hilda will love it.”</p>
<p>“You’re right. Thanks to you, she might actually like the way I look.”</p>
<p>“May I ask you something?”</p>
<p>“Of course. What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Do you like Hilda?”</p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>“As more than a friend.”</p>
<p>“I would hardly call her a friend to begin with. There’s nothing going on between us, and I don’t think tonight’s date will change that.”</p>
<p><i>Date</i>. Constance hates her choice of word.</p>
<p>“Why do you ask?” Hapi wonders aloud. A devious grin spreads on her face. “Are you jealous?”</p>
<p>“I’m not jealous!”</p>
<p>“You’re jealous.”</p>
<p>“I am not. You better get out of here before you’re late.”</p>
<p>“Fine. I’ll leave. Even if I’d rather spend the night with you.”</p>
<p>“Get out of here,” Constance says. She might explode if the conversation carries on any further. She ushers Hapi to the door.</p>
<p>“I’m going!” Hapi insists. She bends over to put her boots back on.</p>
<p>“Wait.”</p>
<p>“Now what?”</p>
<p>“You can’t wear your combat boots with that dress.”</p>
<p>“I am <i>not</i> wearing heels.”</p>
<p>“Hapi, you look ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“I’m wearing these. Goodnight, Coco.” Hapi leaves before Constance can stop her. Constance swears under her breath.</p>
<p>“Goodnight, Hapi. Have fun on your date.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>something something i have a <a href="https://twitter.com/_vulpixel">twitter</a></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you enjoyed this little snippet, get ready for a loooooot more &gt;:)<br/>i hope yall have a wonderful evening</p></blockquote></div></div>
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